Mother Russia
by ScheherazadeTellerOf1001Tales
Summary: Russia is summoned by England and while making his way to London somehow gets custody of the-boy-who-lived. Now how will Russia deal with parenthood, magic, and his son being the most famous child in the world?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I've been wanting to write this for awhile. I'm a little nervous about making Russia believable though, so please tell me if you think I'm keeping him in character. **

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><p><strong>Chapter One - Russia Gets a Baby<strong>

Russia wondered why it was always he who England would accidentally summon. And always at the most inconvenient times too. Like when he was punishing one of his disobedient children. Or was in a meeting with his Boss. Although sometimes it did have advantages, like providing an unexpected and appreciated escape from his little sister's tirades. One of the reasons he hadn't broken England or his house today. The fact that his bushy eyed comrade had vodka ready had also made him less inclined to beat the small man senseless. He'd had a surprisingly pleasant time when the English man instantly brought out vodka and had been suspiciously smiley despite his usual solemn demeanor. When Russia had mentioned it England had given him a happy smile, one Russia didn't think he'd ever seen on his constantly angry or annoyed face, and told Russia that nothing could ruin his day today. The English man never said why he was in such a good mood, but Russia supposed it had something to do with the sickly look he'd had the past eleven years which had somehow been replaced with a flush of health. Russia had tried to figure out what England had been keeping as a secret from the world that has caused such a change, but Russia's spies had found nothing leaving him with a mystery. They'd even parted ways cheerfully, though he thought England would regret the rather affectionate drunken hug he'd given Russia when he was sober.

Walking aimlessly through the streets in the middle of the night perhaps wasn't a good idea for a normal person, but Russia knew he could take anyone who would bother him. Besides he was not going home until Belarus's manic phase had passed, which would mean waiting at least three days. In England without being able to finish the work he had piling up. Russia sighed to himself wishing his sister was a little less obsessive. At least Lithuania would likely go do the paperwork when he was gone. The timid Baltic was useful like that. but either way he would need to find a place to stay during his surprise vacation and need to wire some money for his use. He would call in the morning, he had enough money on him to afford one night in one of England's hotels. In fact there was one in London that knew the secret of the countries and usual treated Russia with the right amount of respect. He'd go there then.

When the decision was made though Russia realized he didn't know where he even was. Blinking the large nation looked around the neighborhood he was walking in. All the houses looked the exact same. Spotting the street sign he realized he was at someplace called Privet Drive. Hm, he would need to ask for directions. Russia decided on Number Four and as he was walking to it he realized there was something on the front porch. When he got beside it he realized it was a blankets bundled around an infant. Was it the norm for England's people to leave babies on doorsteps? Russia vaguely remembered a movie he'd seen Ukraine watching, she'd been crying a lot while watching it, about a young unwed mother leaving her baby on the father's doorstep because she couldn't raise it. Perhaps this was a similar case. Either way it was none of Russia's business. He rang the doorbell.

There was a long moment of no noise so Russia kept ringing it until he heard the distant sounds of scuffling and cursing somewhere in the depths of the house. annoyed with how long it was taking Russia didn't bring his finger of the bell making the long ring hold out. Russia couldn't help but smile at the increase of volume of the curses. Finally the door was swung open to reveal a fat man with a large mustache and a thin blonde woman with a rather long neck, both still in their night clothes.

"Привет." (Hello.) Russia greeted as the man's eyes bugged out of his head.

"Foreigner." The man growled hastily putting himself between Russia and his horsey wife.

"Da," Russia agreed smiling wider. "I wish for directions to London."

Before the man could answer his wife looked down and screamed, grabbing onto her husband's arm and pointing frantically at the bundle next to Russia's feet. The man looked down and jumped back like it was a snake and not a child. The woman wore a similar expression. When the man looked back at Russia he appeared to swell up, which was rather impressive to Russia since the man looked like he would burst if he got any fatter.

"What is the meaning of this?" the man snarled pointing his fat fingers at the child. Russia blinked and examined the child critically, noting the letter it had clutched in it's hand.

"I do not now, comrade." Russia informed the very odd couple. Honestly who was afraid of infants? "It was here when I came, perhaps the letter will reveal something."

Quicker than Russia could blink the thin woman had grabbed the letter and ripped open the envelope to get to its contents. As she read she went exceedingly pale and gripped her husband as if she would faint.

"Vernon it's my sister's child. The letter's from _them_! Lily and James are dead! _They want us to raise the boy!_" the woman said looking horrified at the idea.

"No, Petunia I won't have one of them in my house. I won't have that child infecting Dudley with its freakish ways." Vernon snarled puffing up his mustache bristling. Petunia shook her head looking close to tears.

"The letter says we have to. Oh, Vernon they know where we live what do we do?" Petunia wailed. Vernon wrapped his arms around his wife looking grim.

"Don't worry Pet I'll fix it."

"My directions, da." Russia snapped annoyed at the odd family drama he was being forced to endure. The couple jumped as if forgetting his presence. Vernon looked downright murderous, but when Russia smiled his anger seemed quailed.

"Look you, I know you've been sent by those freaks to intimidate us into taking the boy." The man threw the child a look of repulsion that was seriously making Russia want to hurt someone. "But we refuse you take him." Without further warning The fat man grabbed the child, moving with surprising speed and agility despite his bulk and shoved the baby in Russia's stunned arms along with the letter. Vernon attempted to shut the door, but Russia's foot blocked it and his smile disappeared.

"_Directions, now, da_?" Russia growled darkly and with a squeak the man gave them shaking. Russia moved his foot and the door slammed in his face. the trip to London would be a short one it seemed. But now he had the problem of the infant he was saddled with. Looking down he realized the child was awake and looking at him with beautiful dark green eyes. Russia examined the child taking in the rest of his appearance. Messy black hair, a lightning bolt shaped wound that was already scaring, and those huge eyes. The boy, at least he knew its gender, was quite adorable and the messy hair remained him a bit of his daughter Moscow and his former daughter Alaska when she was little. though of course the child didn't have Russia's purple eyes like all Russia's children. Perhaps it would be alright to raise the boy? He wouldn't have to give the child away like he had with Alaska and he wouldn't need to burn him like hen Napoleon invaded and tried to take Moscow. His daughter still had the scars from the incident. This might be enjoyable even. what decided it was the baby wrapping a small finger around Russia's gloved hand and mumbling some nonsense baby noise. Tightening his grip, but not too tight, baby humans were more delicate than baby nations, Russia decided that yes this would be his son. Looking at the letter he found the boy's name and smiled.

"Harry Braginski." Russia said sounding it out. "Da, I quite like it."

Now to find a store with baby things and then a hotel. He would have to find a different one than he'd planned though. He didn't think England would feel to kindly about Russia taking one of his citizens. Even if they had been given to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This chapter is quite a bit longer. Also I'm not sure how quick updates will be. I'll be including OC countries from the Soviet Union in this, most of which I only read about recently and have never heard of before starting.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – Harry's New Home<strong>

It had taken Russia all his short vacation to get used to the new presence in his life. It had been odd to found another living creature so dependent on him so much, though he'd been thankful to find the child didn't cry at all it seemed. Or at least Russia thought so until his last day. He'd laid the child down for a nap to go pay for his room and when Russia began the walk back upstairs he noted the disturbed looks of those coming out of the elevator and had gotten a bad feeling. Russia took the stairs, flying up them and even before he arrived on his floor he could hear the wailing of a child. When he'd thrown open the door and dashed down the hall he'd startled more than a few people who'd come out to see the screaming, red faced child.

Russia found the child blubbering in the arms of a pretty round faced maid with a dark red braid and a smattering of freckles. She gave him a smoldering look before she saw how Harry quieted, and too Russia's embarrassment, how nervous Russia was about the child. His awkwardness had shamed him, but he wasn't stupid enough to allow his pride to get in the way when the woman quickly became willing to give him some tips on how to deal with children when he'd let slip that Harry had recently lost his mother only a few days earlier. He allowed her to make the obvious assumption of the child being his, which of course the boy now was. Russia took her words of condolence with a grim face she'd seemed to take as his holding back his own grief over his 'wife' for their child. After making the off handed comment on how the boy was one of the prettiest babies she'd ever seen, in a thick accent that sounded vaguely Scottish to him, and how she'd raised nine fine young children of her own she'd sat Russia down and began her lecture.

She started by telling him how exactly to hold Harry. He'd been doing it wrong it seemed and soon she was off into a storm of information. Russia listened with great attention to her explanations of potty training, teething, and other child related topics, even down to what to do when Harry brought home his first girl friend. Russia felt himself reel a little. Who'd known children required so _much_? But he memorized it. Russia had a well above normal memory, but after listening to the Scottish woman explain children he was a little more wary of the responsibility he'd so casual taken and how well even he would remember it all. He almost decided simply to take the child to England, but then boy had to smile up at him and Russia knew he'd never do it. The child trusted him so easily and it had been so long since Russia had been with someone without fear or hate.

After the woman seemed to have exhausted her knowledge she'd given him her number and name ordering him to tell her if he needed any help, or even a nanny, because she had experience with that as well. Then with a kiss to Harry's head and a kiss on the stunned blushing nation's cheek Mary Raeburne departed. Russia quickly stuffed the number in his pocket and hurried to the flight he would miss if he didn't hurry. It wasn't until they started their descent in Moscow that Russia wondered how his housemates would feel about the child. Not that it would matter. Russia would keep Harry no matter what they said. Russia looked down at the sleeping child and smiled. Slowly he began rocking him gently as he sung a low mournfully Russian lullaby about a girl deceived by a false lover who dead of her grief, drowning herself in a river, and became a creature who lured away young men to their death in her watery domain. For some reason his fellow passengers seemed to be shaking. Odd, but Russia shrugged it off and continued singing gently to the child.

. . .

"Vanya!" a familiar voice shouted happily as Russia made his way through the terminal. Russia managed to steel himself for the impact and maneuver Harry to safety just in time. He didn't even need to like down as a soft, feminine form grabbed his side wrapping her arms around. Russia looked down at the soft platinum hair of his sister fondly.

"Hello Katyusha," Russia greeted wrapping one arm around Ukraine and giving her a little squeeze before stepping out of her embrace so he could hold Harry more securely. For a second hurt flashed in his elder sisters eyes, but then she saw Harry and gasped eyes bulging in surprises.

"His beautiful!" Ukraine gushed as she lent foreword to examine the child better and cooed appreciatively. Harry though wrapped his little hands tightly in Russia's scarf looking at Ukraine shyly with his big green eyes through his long black lashes only for a moment before he buried his face in Russia's chest apparently overcome with shyness. Russia adjusted his arms to cover the child so he was out of view mostly to his sister's disappointment, but she quickly focused back on him with a quizzical smile and question in her eyes.

"He's my son." Russia explained calmly noting Lithuania and Latvia approaching in the distance. Ukraine had ran away at the sight of him it seemed. Hm, maybe he should discuss with them how to be better escorts? Later perhaps. Russia is in a good mood and does not wish to punish those around him right now.

Ukraine's mouth opened at her brother's response and suddenly she eyed Harry with a fearful interest. Her voice dropped an octave and she speaks with an odd mixture of seriousness and her natural excited nature. "I did not know you had started a colony brother. I hope it went well."

Russia blinked sensing the question beneath his normal ditsy sister's words and her peculiarly focused eyes. Sometimes it is easy for one to forget the Ukraine was Russia's _older_ sister, but now her eyes held a knowledge that told him she is not so stupid, he flinched mentally feeling a little guilty at applying the word to his beloved sister, as she appears.

"Do not worry Katyusha, Harry is a _normal_ child." Russia explained. Ukraine paused and seemed to consider it, but the she smiled merrily.

"Oh, I have a little nephew to spoil." Ukraine cooed going back to normal and standing on her toe tips to look at the child. "What's his name Vanya, dear?"

"Harry Braginski." Russia answered calmly as Lithuania and Latvia came within hearing distance. Little Latvia almost fell on his face and Lithuania looked speechless eyes instantly going to the child even as he instantly grabbed his 'brother' and helped him up. Russia gave the Baltics a smile as Latvia opened his mouth. Lithuania though seemed to sense impending doom that usually occurred when the blunt little nation spoke and quietly covered Latvia's mouth and gave Russia a weak smile.

"Welcome back Mr. Russia," the gentle man greeted and gave Harry one last curious look. "I was able to finish your paperwork for you, but your boss would like to see you as soon as possible."

Russia nodded and hesitated even though he knew what he had to do. Finally he handed the child to a startled Lithuania who removed his hand from Latvia's mouth immediately to awkwardly hold the child. The terror Russia saw in Lithuania's face did not fill him with confidence, but he knew he had to proceed as planned. He'd had thought it out during his break and knew he would not be able to have Harry with him constantly, especially during important meetings and such. Russia and Harry would have to get used to him being babysat. The sooner they started the better. Harry looked as stunned as the Baltic and Russia took advantage of the momentary peace to hand Latvia the baby bag.

"His things are in here. You all shall watch him until I return home, da?" Russia instructed to the shocked silence. He took a deep breath. As the saying went what didn't kill you made you stronger. And harry would need to become a strong little boy to survive. If he could survive this first day everything after should go smoothly.

"But Mr. Russia—" Lithuania squeaked looking at him wide eyed.

"Calm down Toris he is just a baby, da?" Russia assured him giving his shoulder a comforting pat, that almost made Lithuania's knees buckle. "I suspected I would need to see my boss straight away so I contacted Moscow. She is waiting with a car and will take me. You all shall return home and get the child acquainted with our family, da?" The Baltics nodded looking as if Russia had given them a death sentence and Ukraine simply smiled beaming at the little boy and continuing her cooing. Seeing the start of a wrinkle in Harry's brow Russia took his cue and hastily said good-bye to his sister. By the time the airport entrance shut behind him loud wailing had started. It's for the best, Russia told himself stubbornly as Moscow opened the door for him. He hoped he didn't regret this.

. . .

When Prussia first heard the baby crying he assumed it was one of his dream memories. Prussia was happy for a few seconds despite the mind tearing pain the baby's wails caused his hangover to produce. At least in a dream he'd be able to see him. _Ludwig always did have a set lungs to be proud of_, Prussia thought amused comparing the loud prone to screaming infant Germany had once been to the manual loving strict adult his baby brother had become. When he opened his eyes to the familiar ceiling of the basement though his throat clenched in disappointment. He was awake and reality was Russia's oppressive home. Prussia growled and ran his fingers through his hair as his head pounded painfully.

Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the memory and froze mouth gaping. He jumped to his feet with a shriek seeing red. Appropriate sense his hair was now a deep dark red. Damn that little bastard Uzbekistan to the lowest pits of hell. Prussia would have been wary around Kirghizia. The freak had a weird love of practical jokes, but sweet, smiley little Uzbekistan the mother hen of Soviet Central Asia? Please. He didn't doubt Kirghizia had encouraged Uzbekistan, but the only one who'd been down here drinking with him when he'd fell asleep after everyone else was Uzbekistan. And to top things off the baby would. Not. Stop. Crying!

Prussia took the steps three at a time and threw the door open shocking a nearby Latvia who screamed and fell over. Prussia ignored him focusing on his pain and the sound of the baby. First he'd shut the brat up, then he'd get some hangover medicine from Lithuania, and then he'd go to the Soviet Central Asian house and beat that little brat. _Nobody _touchedPrussia's hair. He found the hell spawn in a scene out of a comedy, or maybe a horror movie. Lithuania was holding the baby away from him crying while Ukraine was unbuttoning her shirt and Belarus was being teased in her tied up, gagged state by a very cheerful Poland.

Prussia stared a few more seconds before the baby restarted his screams from his brief pause to suck in a breath. Without bothering to ask what the hell was going on Prussia snatched the baby from Lithuania's hands and quickly held him the _right_ way.

"Shut up." Prussia growled and, to even his surprise, the baby obeyed looking up at him with big green eyes. Prussia looked up to glare at the silent room a little freaked out to find Lithuania starring at him with tears of awe and thanks.

"Why is Ukraine trying to take of her shirt?" Prussia decided to ask first since seeing Ukraine's large tracts of land was clearly the most important thing other than stopping that godforsaken noise. Prussia rocked the baby a little instinctively falling back into the soft humming and gentle movements that had characterized his care of his brother at infancy.

"We thought he might be h-hungry." Lithuania stuttered still looking amazed. Prussia looked at the group incredulously, silently tucking away the fact the that the baby was a boy away.

"Mein gott, you're stupid. The little monster's too big for nursing and Ukraine won't make any milk unless she has a baby." Prussia told them not bothering to hide his contempt. The Baltic States, even the half hidden Estonia all went simultaneously pale and bright red. Prussia didn't blame them. He didn't want to be the sorry bastard who asked Russia's sister to breast feed.

"He's not a monster." Ukraine scolded, but looked as sweet as normal now that the baby was calm. "He's name is Harry, and Vanya adopted him while he was in England."

Prussia looked down at the baby, Harry, and then up at the group. "And he left him with you?"

At the nods Prussia seriously wondered if Russia was stupid. Sure Prussia had always known the bastard was bat shit insane and cruel, but he'd never seemed stupid. And if he wasn't stupid why would he go to the trouble of kidnapping the kid, Prussia couldn't picture anyone willingly allowing Russia to take a child, just to let this group of idiots kill it? Prussia looked at the kid pityingly. Poor little bastard had no idea what he was in for. Prussia decided against going to track down the ruiner of his hair. There was something so painfully familiar and warming about the soft, warm weight of a child. It made Prussia's heart ache to see his little brother, but also helped make him feel a little better. Besides he doubted the kid would survive long without his awesome self. Straightening Prussia turned to Poland.

"Yo, go get me some pain killer my head's being a bitch." Prussia ordered walking over to one of the softer looking chairs and sitting. Poland pouted at him.

"I'm like not your slave you red eyed weirdo. Make Liet do it." the Pole protested.

"Stop PMSing and get the meds unless you want the baby to start crying again. Prussia threatened making to give the baby to a now panicked looking Latvia. The child's lip started to tremble.

"Psh, fine, but I like totally hate you." Poland huffed and glared at Prussia. "Nice hairdo by the way." And then he darted out. Prussia rolled his eyes. Poland and he weren't best friend's, but you could get used to even the most annoying person in the world if you were forced to share a room with them for a few decades.

"Right so why is Belarus tied up, not that I'm complaining?" Prussia asked, causing the female to glare at him hatefully. Prussia grinned in response making her strain against her bounds. God Prussia hated her. How Ukraine could be so nice and raise the devil himself and a she-demon like Belarus was beyond him.

Lithuania looked guilty and sad, while Ukraine blushed bright red. Latvia and Estonia though were rubbing different bruises, and now that he looked at Estonia, possible broken limbs.

"Natalia was upset about Vanya not coming home and she thought it was best to injury Harry to make him stop crying." Ukraine answered with a small frown surprising Prussia. For Ukraine that was extreme disapproval with how she treated people. Lithuania looked as if he was silently trying to defend Belarus and like he was barely resisting the urge to rip the bounds off her.

"Okay, we'll keep her like that for now." Prussia decided and felt Belarus's hate radiating off her in waves. Then he felt a tug on his hair. Looking down he saw the baby smiling up at him sweetly. Prussia flashed to a memory of a blonde blue eyed baby doing the same thing. Prussia swallowed hard and looked up and pointed a slightly trembling finger at Lithuania.

"You first." Prussia snapped.

"What?" Lithuania questioned wide eyed.

"I said you first. Now get over here so you can learn how to hold the kostbare wenig Soldat." (_Precious little soldier_)


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: A bit shorter than the last one. I'll try to make them longer as they go. Oh, if you're interested check out my Salem witches Academy story.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three - Welcome Party<strong>

Things were going smoother than Russia expected. It had been a surprise to come home after his meeting with Brezhnez to find his house in order and not to hear Harry's screaming. Russia's surprise only grew when he found the Baltics, Ukraine, Poland, and a tied up Belarus all sitting in the living room being instructed by Prussia on the correct way to burp a baby, while simultaneously bouncing a giggling, clapping Harry on his hip. Well he was instructing Ukraine and the Baltics, Belarus looked like she was plotting the most painful way to kill the Prussian and Poland was reading a glossy new fashion magazine, only glancing up at the Prussian occasionally.

Prussia it turned out was more useful than Russia thought. Not only did he actually seem to know about babies, but Harry trusted him and was fascinated with Prussia's newly red hair. To Russia's amusement the little boy had even bit Poland when he tried to touch the hair. It was one worry off Russia's back. He'd been convinced that Prussia would have been one of the worst ones to watch the child. But Russia supposed, now that he considered it, Prussia had raised Germany and he'd turned out rather well. And he'd also had that other one who'd died. Holy Roman Empire, Russia remembered. So the annoying albino did have experience.

After explaining to Belarus she was not to ever touch Harry or threaten the child and her making a vow that she'd raise help raise the boy to show him what a good wife she'd be, Russia had decided on Harry's second test. He'd survived his first week in Russia's house being fussed over by both Prussia and Ukraine and sleeping with Russia every night, while the Baltics prepared the baby room since Russia still didn't trust them to take a more active role in Harry's raising. Especially not after Latvia's accident during Harry's first bath. The small nation was lucky Prussia was watching or his punishment for allowing Harry to fall into the water would have been much, _much_ worse.

Now though Russia was having more difficulty with the second test than he expected. Though Harry was a crying menace when out of Russia, Prussia, or, on occasion to her great joy and pride, Ukraine's arms Russia had become very fond of his new ward. As Russia looked around the room he wondered if perhaps he should have waited a little longer. No he was being ridiculous just because some of the nations in the room hated him didn't mean they were brave enough to try anything against Harry. Besides if they even made the slightest threatening movement towards the boy, Russia's pipe was in hand's reach. Looking at the rest of the Soviet Union examining the child Russia forced himself to relax. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

. . .

"Where do you think he got the child Czech?" Slovakia asked her sister as they both hovered on the outskirts of the mysterious child's 'Welcoming Party'. Czech frowned at her blonde sister violet eyes examining the child from what she considered a safe distance as she pushed some of her curling black hair behind an ear.

"I don't know and I don't care. I'll be happy when we go home." The pretty vaguely Austrian looking nation growled in her normally soft quiet voice. Slovakia rolled her green eyes at her sister's grumpiness.

"You need to get more social Czech." Slovakia scolded lightly standing on her toes to peek over the nations who were going closer to look at the child. "Aren't you even a little curious?"

"No." Czech said looking at her sister like she was crazy. "Why do you care?"

Slovakia looked away suddenly embarrassed. "N-nothing, it's just Mr. Russia looks nicer holding the baby."

Czech was horrified and quickly launched into a whispered vehement speech about how Russia was most definitely not nice and how he was definitely still the scary insane bastard they both agreed to avoid at all costs.

Not too far away from the sisters Georgia, Moldavia, Armenia,and Romania were discussing something similar.

"Why did he have to get a child?" Romania moaned face in his hands. "Wasn't it bad enough forcing me to live with that Beast?"

"Well you'll have to get used to it brother. He seems very fond of the child." Moldavia said rather unsympathetic in her low pleasantly smooth voice. "Georgia do stop glaring at Mr. Russia dear, it's rather disconcerting. You know what will happen if Miss Belarus sees you."

Georgia grunted. "Don't care. I hate that bastard and his evil little helper."

Moldavia frowned her dark eyes disapproving. Georgia was normally such a hospitable, easygoing little nation, but if he spends more than three seconds in the same house is Russia he became so reckless and rude. And he was so very, very proud too, Moldavia thought looking at her cousin fondly. Looking across the room she found a distraction and smiled to herself.

"Oh my, it looks like Miss Ukraine is having some trouble with the drinks." Moldavia said lightly. Instantly the slender dark haired, dark eyed nation straightened and focused in on the taller female, seeming to completely forget about her brother.

"I'll go help her." Georgia said hurriedly and practically ran across the room to get to Ukraine's side.

"I think the child is a good influence." Armenia said thoughtfully purple eyes looking at Russia thoughtfully from behind red glasses. Moldavia looked at the soft spoken nation curiously. "He hasn't threatened to punish anyone the entire time and even Miss Belarus has remained relatively well behaved."

Moldavia nodded her agreement. There was only one he who mattered in the soviet Union. Moldavia looked at Russia again. Armenia was right. Perhaps this child was even better than she thought?

"I wonder how Harry would look in a cute little dress, with lots of lace and some green spring patterns. Perhaps made of muslin?" Hungary wondered aloud and looked towards Poland for his opinion. The blonde nation paused before nodding.

"It would make his green eyes pop, but it would be even cuter if we dressed him up in some of Russian clothes or maybe a little sailor suit? I can't wait until the thing is past his popping, crying stage. He'll be like totally fun to dress up." Poland said eyes glowing at the prospect. Hungary nodded eyes misting with joyful tears.

"Like little Ita-chan all over again." she reminisced affectionately.

Lithuania sighed looking up at Russia fearfully praying he hadn't heard what Hungary and Poland were plotting. Thankfully he seemed entirely caught up in Soviet Central Asia, all of which were fussing over the child or looking it over curiously giving a soft pat or gentle poke in the stomach. Lithuania couldn't help, but smile at Harry's giggle when Tajikistan gently poked his stomach. The woman jumped back looking terrified and quickly fought her way back allowing the rest of the countries to have a closer look. Poor girl, Lithuania knew she was nervous around children, though she'd never admit it. It was a shame Harry was a sweet child. And he brought out such an unusually gentle side of Russia and Belarus. Which was unbelievably cute to the Baltic. Lithuania blushed as he was quickly absorbed in fantasies revolving around Belarus and a blue-eyed brunette child. Which led to his favorite fantasies of a date with Belarus or, he could feel his face growing redder at the thought, marrying her. Lithuania sighed longingly and Poland 'accidentally' elbowed him hard in the gut. Liet really needs to get over her, Poland thought to himself, looking viciously at the long haired female nation.

. . .

Russia stretched yawning as he turned in later that evening. It had been a long party, but things had gone smoothly except for a rather loud argument between Romania and Hungary which had almost come to blows. It had been a good thing for them they'd had their argument far away from Harry. Russia idly wondered when his roommates luck would run out and they'd do something bad around Harry. After all considering how clumsy and irresponsible they were it was only a matter of time. Russia was distracted when Harry gave a coo from his crib. Smiling, Russia sat on his bed and leaned over the crib to sing a lullaby to the baby. Soon Harry was lulled to sleep and the rest of the house was silent.

As Russia stood to ready for bed he heard it. The soft sound of a door opening. Russia smiled to himself. So predictable. He moved silently to his window and looked outside to see, barely illuminated in the moonlight a pink haired head, the dye slowly fading in his hair, carrying a motorcycle along the road. Little Prussia really was turning out to be so smart. He knew about children and Russia had only recently discovered the small nation was keeping in contact with his brother. Clearly he underestimated him. Humming to himself Russia decided to have a nice long talk with him when he got back or maybe he'd pay Germany a visit to see if he'd let loose how exactly Prussia was keeping in touch. Russia had caught off all direct routes and was keeping track of all Germany's close contacts and allies. Russia wondered who exactly it was helping Little Prussia. After all his only friends, France and Spain, were being watched too. It was truly a bother and mystery. But one Russia decided he would solve.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I'm a PruCan shipper and since i wanted that in this, this chapter was born.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four – Prussia's Friend<strong>

It hadn't started out as a friendship. In fact it hadn't started out as anything pleasant. Prussia had literally ran into him while running away from Belarus and for seem reason had seen fit to grab his wrist and drag him with him. Not that he was complaining. He had no desire to face the angry female when she had her knives out and looked desperate for any blood even if it wasn't Prussia. If Canada had been told that day that he'd eventually be friends with the obnoxious Prussian he'd been trapped in a closet with for seven hours while they hid from a nation _Prussia_ had pissed off he probably would have punched them and told them were they could go with some very colorful French.

When they finally got out of the closet late that night Canada had been furious. He'd already had a headache, America had been extra annoying that day, and the closet had been really, _really_ small so he couldn't punch Prussia for his occasional gropes unless he wanted to bring Belarus in on them. After they got out of the closet was another matter entirely, so they'd parted during their first real meeting with Prussia having a broken nose and cursing and Canada stomping off to see if he could order a new plane ticket since he'd missed his flight in the closet.

Their next meeting was under different circumstances a few months later at another World Conference. Canada hadn't really thought of Prussia much since then. In fact he'd completely forgotten about him except for the occasional errant thought. It probably would have continued that way if he hadn't been tackled from behind by a very exuberant hug while on the way to lunch.

"Missed me? Kesesese." Canada's attacker questioned, as he pinned Canada's wiggling form to the ground. Canada didn't need further invitation to sharply elbow the Prussian in the face. Prussia jerked back at the blow giving Canada enough room to turn so he was at least facing the albino, who was now holding a bleeding nose as he sat on Canada's stomach. Canada didn't wait for explanation as he went in for a second swing. But Prussia didn't sit back this time and he quickly won the short scuffle that followed, pinning Canada's arms beneath his knees and sitting back on the younger nations chest.

"You are not Francis." Prussia deadpanned looking like a blur hovering over the now glasses-less Canadian.

"Of course I'm not Papa! Where are my glasses?" Canada snapped furious that he'd been so easily beaten on top of the already bad day he was having. Quebec had once again started a fight about wanting to be independent and this time right before a Conference. Canada loved his sons, but today he wondered how the human race survived past adolescence if any of them had mouths like his son. Then he'd been forgotten when the Conference was being hosted by _him_. That added to the facts that Prussia wasn't exactly his favorite person right now and the fact he'd been mistaken for his lecherous father figure did not make him inclined to be the polite, timid individual he usually was.

There was a slight pause and then gentle hands slipped his glasses on, startling him out of his fuming. When he looked at those glowing red eyes in a pale bloody face Canada's heart did an odd little back flip. Prussia was looking at him. Not through him, actually at him, Matthew Williams.

"Sorry about that." Prussia said with a large cocky grin that didn't quite go with his bloody visage. As he looked Canada over though something different made his eyes glow. Something that reminded Canada that this was one of France's _best friends_.

"Or rather, not sorry. You're a cutie aren't you? A violent cutie, but if I remember our time in the closet right, one with a delightful—" Prussia began with a lecherous leer in place. Canada jerked up his leg managing to knee Prussia in the stomach. He quickly took advantage and freed an arm to shove Prussia off so he could scramble to his feet.

"Hands off." Canada warned, stepping back and eying the albino warily and then feeling the odd need to defend himself. "I'm not violent, you just keep catching me on bad days."

Prussia scoffed and glared at him weakly holding his abdomen.

"Damn kid, I was just messing with you." Prussia huffed struggling to his feet. "Your Francis's kid, right? Matthieu?"

Canada could only stare at Prussia for a few minutes. It was shocking enough to actually be seen for once, but to be recognized and called by his old name was just plain abnormal. But not unpleasant, he realized and felt oddly shy, his annoyance evaporating in the face of rare recognition.

"Matthew. Or, er, Canada." he corrected weakly. Prussia blinked a little at the sudden timidness, but then he gave a cocky smirk-smile.

"Kesesese, you definitely are a cutie and nothing like Francis or Eyebrows." Prussia said eying Canada with an interest the young nation wasn't used to. "I'm not calling you Canada it's be going backwards." Prussia paused looking him over so intently Canada blushed. "I think I'll call you Birdie, cutie. You should feel honored, I only bother giving out my awesome nicknames to the truly awesome and blessed. You may be violent, but you are Franny's kid and are exceedingly cute, so there's still hope for you. Just don't punch my amazingly handsome, awesome countenance again."

Canada wasn't exactly sure what to do with this sudden change and decided to just ask the question that was poised on his tongue.

"How do you know me?" Canada asked.

Prussia looked at him incredulously. "Francis talked about you, duh." And then he changed the subject completely. "Is it true you make the best pancakes in the world?"

"I do make rather good ones." Canada admitted modestly, but with pride as blinked at the whiplash from the sudden switch. Even in weird situations Canada was still rather proud of his culinary skills.

"Great, you can make me some!" Prussia announced and began dragging the shocked blonde after him. Canada starred at the Prussian, not quite sure how this had occurred or why he was allowing this odd man to drag him around after being trapped in a closet with him, being molested by him, and breaking his nose. _Twice_. That train of thought made Canada stop in his tracks.

"Wait you nose." Canada blurted out making Prussia, who'd stopped when he did, blink.

"Oh, yeah." Prussia said looking as if he'd only just remembered. Canada shook his head and pulled his wrist free of Prussia's grasp so he could grab the man's hand to pull him along.

"Come on I'll fix you up. I've done it for Alfred and myself plenty of times." Canada said as firmly as his soft voice could. Prussia looked amused and allowed Canada to pull him into the bathroom connected to his bedroom. He'd decided to have the World Conference in his largest private home so his fellow nations wouldn't have to pay for hotel rooms. It was old, built during his time with France, but it easily held all the nations. It was a little dusty though, because it was just too much trouble to live in with just Canada and his children. The last time he'd used it was a week long visit from his brother and _all_ the states.

With Prussia perched on the bathtub while Canada cleaned him up all Canada could think about was how odd it was to have a full house. So full in fact he'd sent his sons to stay at his house in Montreal.

Canada gently began to wash the blood from Prussia's face when he finished setting the nose, too consumed in his own thoughts to think of what he was doing. Prussia jerked back seeming startled by the touch. Canada flinched back blushing and feeling ridiculous. He should have known better than to try and clean up a near stranger. Now that he considered it the gesture was really rather intimate. Canada was so used to cleaning up his twin though he hadn't thought about it. Horrified Canada felt his face go even redder. Prussia though suddenly grinned and began his creepy chuckling.

"Sorry for startling you Birdie, but I haven't been fussed over by someone as cute as you for _years_. I've been stuck with that bastard Russia's ugly mug for too long. You really are a sight for sore eyes Birdie, so please do continue." Prussia said leering again. Canada threw the wet rage into Prussia's lap and jumped away before the albino's wondering hands could do anything. Prussia's proceeding pout was ruined by the leer that still lingered on his face.

"None of that or I'm not cooking you anything!" Canada threatened and froze realizing what he said. Why was he putting up with this?

Prussia perked up at the mention of food and soon enough Canada found himself eating pancakes for lunch with what he considered an obnoxious, mildly perverted weirdo and not really minding. The rest of the three-day Conference Prussia sought him out for food and during that time Canada realized Prussia was always very careful never to be seen with Canada around other nations. During the actual meetings Prussia never once acknowledged him, staying in the circle of Soviet controlled nations around Russia and looking very unhappy about it. Yet, the second Canada was out of sight of the others he'd appear out of nowhere calling Canada that odd nickname and attempting to give him a very _affectionate_ greeting. Canada didn't ask him about it before the Conference ended or at any of the Conferences over the next five years that Prussia showed at. Eventually Canada just started waiting for him and almost against his will became friends with him. Canada became very adept at avoiding his friend's hands, which Prussia took as a challenge to try harder. Kumajiro, who'd taken a liking to Prussia, enjoyed keeping count of when Prussia managed a grope and found it incredibly amusing when he did. Things changed though when in the middle of the night Prussia came to Canada's house in the middle of the night bruised and shaken with a request.

"Mon dieu! (_My god!_) Gilbert what happened?" Canada gasped starring at his friend horrified. Prussia looked at him dazed until he finally registered what had been said. Prussia gave him a very weak, very fake smile.

"It's not as bad as it looks. Can I come in before we start the interrogation?" Prussia asked shakily. Canada nodded too terrified by how Prussia sounded to do otherwise. It was so rough and whispery, no doubt caused by the dark bruises around Prussia's neck that looked like they had been caused by an unsuccessful hanging. But the dull, dead tone and look of horror under the bruises, blood, and false bravado scared Canada more than he'd thought anything could.

When Canada moved aside to let him in Prussia barely made it three steps before his legs gave out. Canada caught him, but the second the young nation touched him Prussia screamed. Canada forced himself not to flinch at the horrible sound lest he jostle Prussia and cause his friend more pain. Canada loosened his grip a little helping Prussia get one of his arms over Canada's shoulder so Canada could support Prussia. Tucked into Canada's side Prussia got his footing back a little, but still leaned heavily on the Canadian while his nails dug painfully into Canada's skin. It was an easily ignored pain in the face of Prussia's suffering, then footsteps pounding in their direction reminded Canada that he wasn't alone tonight. Prussia tensed at the sound and watched warily as Alberta rounded the corner. He stopped though at the sight of the bleeding man at his father's side. Kumajiro instantly appeared beside the boy, fur fluffed up at the the scent of blood.

"What—?" Alberta began violet-blue eyes wide as he looked at them in shock.

"Not now." Canada snapped, trying to keep his calm as he took control of the situation. "Alberta tell your brothers my friend stopped by in need of help. Tell Ontario to get the medic kit and come to my room. The rest of you stay away, I don't want you crowding him."

Alberta nodded, looking hesitant to leave, but with one last reluctant look raced off to do as his father commanded.

"Who's the kid?" Prussia rasped as they hobbled to Canada's bedroom.

"My son, well one of them." Canada told him kicking the door open and breaking the knob in the process. He didn't care though, it could easily be replaced. Surprised flickered across Prussia's face making him look almost normal for a few brief seconds.

"I didn't know you had kids." Prussia told him and flinched as Canada helped him get settled.

"Try not to talk, you're weak, you can say whatever you like later." Canada ordered as Ontario ran into the room his mussed clothes being the only part of his always cool, collected demeanor that showed he was shocked about this turn of events.

"Go stay with your brothers. I'll be down later." Canada ordered and with a quick nod Ontario obeyed without question. That's why Canada had chosen him. Any of his other children would have at least starred a little, but he didn't even glance at Prussia.

"I mean it Gilbert." Canada snarled as the albino tried to push himself up and say something. For once Prussia actually listened to something he said, which just made Canada more worried. Slowly he began accessing the injuries and fixing them. Halfway through wiping off the blood to see what laid beneath it Prussia fell asleep apparent unable to hold on anymore. Canada was almost relieved not to have a witness to the despair and anger that only grew the more he saw. By the time he was down he was shaking and it took everything in him not to immediately try and track down the _bastard_ who'd done this and killed them. Canada contained himself though and, as gently as he would his own children, pulled a blanket over the now freezing man and tucked him in. Looking over the soft sleeping face Canada forced himself to turn away. He couldn't afford to blow up in the house.

Canada only paused long enough to tell his sons that everything was alright and to leave Gilbert be so he could rest before he went outside, barely noticing how the cold bit at his unprotected skin. He found an ax at the back of the house and went to work chopping wood. It didn't take long for him to get back in the swing of things. Soon he'd built of a thin sheen of sweat and was working off the insane energy that the anger sent coursing through him. Kumajiro had come out at some point, he realized distantly, but continued his task knowing his old friend would wait until he was ready. Time seemed to fade away and he only noticed the growing light when Ontario came around the house having changed out of his pajamas.

"Your friend is awake and asking for you." Ontario told him in his dead panned, but his blue eyes were soft with concern. Canada dimly realized he was panting, but ignored it nodding to his son and gently ruffling his dark hair reassuringly as he past. Ontario relaxed a little and followed Canada in. His sons were all waiting for him anxious and tense. Canada smiled at them softly and they all relaxed except Quebec who looked rebellious and angry as he always did when he was worried.

"I'll talk to Gilbert and when I'm done I'll make breakfast okay?" The boys nodded weakly, even Quebec and Canada hurried to Prussia's side.

He was wearing some of Canada's clothes, over sized on Canada's slender frame, they were practically falling off his friend almost malnourished form. Canada felt a pang of guilt as he remembered the scars he'd seen on his friend, recent scars. Not only had he not noticed his friend was being hurt, but it was clear now he hadn't been eating enough.

"Gilbert what happened?" Canada asked softly as he sat down beside Prussia on the bed. Prussia jumped a little, but quickly relaxed and looked at him with a pained look that made Canada burn on the inside with pain and a fierce desire to erase it.

"I finally found out why I never got a letter from Ludwig." Prussia told him with a sickly look. "He's been blocking them. The entire time. I doubt Ludwig ever got any of mine either. I found them and Russia wasn't happy when I confronted him on it. I shouted and well you can see what happened." Prussia gave a cold laugh and looked at Canada despairingly, he looked ready to cry, completely absorbed in his pain. "Mein Gott, (_My god_) what must he think? West must hate me. Not a word in decades. I would hate me. God Matthew what do I do? I tried to go see Ludwig, but he had people waiting. The same in Italy and France and Spain's places. I can't see him I can't pass any letters on. Finally I just came here. He doesn't know we're friends after all. If he'd known he would have kept an eye on you like he did the others at the World Conferences. It's hell, real hell there. I don't know if I can survive going back there Birdie. But I have to, if I don't he'll eventually find out about you and I'm not going to let him go after you."

Canada pulled Prussia into his arms unable to stop himself. Prussia returned the embrace snuggling into him and burying his face in his neck shaking with suppressed sobs.

"I'll do it." Canada told him, vowing to do anything he could to protect Prussia. "I'll pass the letters and I'll tell Germany you haven't forgot him. I'll give him yours whenever I see you. I'll do anything for you Gilbert. I swear."

And he had. Germany had been confused by his insistence to talk to him at the next meeting, but he'd followed Canada and when he realized what Canada was delivering actually hugged him. Canada had been doing it ever since. And had been doing anything he could to make Prussia's life better ever since. So when he burst in his kitchen asking him to sneak him into England, Canada decided to what to ask questions on the way and called in some favors.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: They'll be big time jumps after this and, probably, longer chapters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter - The Dursleys No Good Very Bad day<strong>

Prussia was glad to have Canada with him. He'd known he could count on the kind nation. He hadn't even asked questions just nodded and got them on a plane within twenty minutes. Canada had always been good to him, so good in fact Prussia wondered what exactly he'd done to deserve it. It was easy to push away those thoughts though when Canada smiled at him or Prussia 'fell asleep' on the blonde and was able to snuggle into his neck and just enjoy himself without being accused of being a pervert or making Canada think he thought of him as more than a friend. Because Prussia didn't fall in love. He was way too awesome for something that always made you so weak. Germany had been crushed by Italy's refusal when he proposed and you only had to look at Lithuania to knew love could make you blind to the fact that the object of your affection was a psychotic bitch. Prussia didn't do love, he'd have sex and other physical stuff, but love was much too dangerous for him to fall prey to.

Even if it was, say, your best friend who was the only reason you defied the devil himself to sneak out and see even if you knew you'd be tortured and punished if he found out. Even if he was the only reason you were able to endure that hell. Even if he did have that snorting laugh when he found something really funny, that he was so embarrassed by that Prussia may or may not have found adorable. Even if he did have those soft purple eyes that someone could drown in surrounded by those long golden lashes that kissed his soft, fair, creamy skin when he blinked. Even if he did have golden blonde curly hair that Prussia certainly did not want to run his fingers through or fantasize about grabbing to drag said person into a passionate kiss. Even if he did have full pale pink lips with a gently curving cupid's bow that Prussia would never spend hours imagining kissing. Or even if just being around him made you relax and seeing his whole face light up when he saw you made your heart do acrobatics that weren't physically possible. Nope not even then. Because Prussia was most definitely **not** in love with his friend. Psh, no way. In fact he'd deny he'd ever pent hours upon hours daydreaming about a certain Canadian. Prussia was too awesome for that. Really.

"Is everything alright Gilbert? You've been starring at me for awhile." Canada asked softly, his purple eyes soft with worry, one of his hands gently grasping Prussia's on the shared armrest of their air plane seat. Prussia gave his normal cocky laugh, to cover the blush that appeared when Canada's small hand touched his, fingers gently twinging with Prussia's own. Prussia pointedly ignored the nervous edge in his laugh.

"What wrong. Nothing wrong with me birdie. I'm golden just golden, and totally awesome too." Prussia assured him, Canada looked at him a bit longer taking in the wide grin and bright red eyes. Finally he relaxed smiling in a way that did **not** make Prussia's heart do a pleasant little flip. Canada squeezed his hand affectionately, before relaxing in his seat leaving their fingers intertwined.

Prussia stared at the hands as Canada calmly looked out the window completely serene. Kumajiro, who insisted on sitting on the outside sit, leaving Prussia in the middle, smirked seeming to sense Prussia's inner turmoil at the action. Prussia was close to hyperventilating and he felt hot all over. He knew he was acting like a blushing teenage girl, but he couldn't help it. Canada and him were affectionate and stuff. Prussia himself was always pleased with a hard one feel up. But Canada's easy action, seemed so natural, so intimate it was freaking the commit-phobic nation out to his very core.

He'd spent his whole life avoiding marriage and now all he could think of was. _Does he like me? Does this mean Mattie likes me as more than a friend? Shit, isn't this what people who are dating do? Are we dating? Birdie cooks for me, we hang out a lot, we like each other, I know all his kids, we've slept together (unfortunately with clothes on), and I'm attracted to him. God, Birdie's supposed to be the worrier who agonizes over things not me. Oh god, he's massaging my wrist. It feels good too. Nobody should be able to do that with just a thumb running along your pulse. Dammit, that is not sensual. Think of Belarus. Belarus in her stupid dress. Trying to rape Prussia. Fuck, don't think of Matthew in a wedding dress. Dammit mind that doesn't mean switch to nothing._

"Bathroom." Prussia snapped and fled before Canada could even realize what was happening. He slammed the door behind him and looked. Panting and flushed Prussia stared at his reflection in the mirror. The situation could only be summed up in one word.

"Fuck."

This was supposed to be a trip to find out about the kid, not for him to continue his damn angsting over his friend like a fucking hormonal teenager. He'd been way too long without sex. That was the only reason he was freaking out he told himself firmly. Purely physical.

Somehow that sounded as unconvincing as his early protests about not being in love with Canada. Prussia missed the days when he'd been a powerful nation who took things when he wanted and laughed at the thought of matrimony. He was still awesome and powerful of course, but he was definitely softening up in this modern world. At least around these younger nations. They all seemed to. The New World had been what made England snap out of his arrogant bitch pirate phase after all and even his rapist friend France had been a relatively good, if absent, father. Prussia wondered if this was punishment for mocking said nations when they'd started to soften.

It wasn't until the end of the flight that Prussia came out of the bathroom. Canada was worried, but didn't grab his hand again, which made Prussia a little disappointed. It wasn't until they got in the bad that Prussia began to quietly tel them why they'd come. Considering what he expected, Canada took the whole Russia kidnapping one of England's citizens and trying to raise it as his son thing pretty good. Even the part about Prussia checking out the family to see if it was worth bringing Harry back to. If not he brought the necessary paperwork, another reason why he'd brought a witness with a law degree, though he'd gotten it half a century ago but why quibble. If they were than Prussia would plan the daring rescue to return the kid to his loving family. Prussia almost wished they weren't. Russia was a little less of a bastard with the kid around. Prussia was, all in all, pretty happy. After all he didn't even get punched this time.

…

Any guilt Petunia Dursley might have felt in the face of abandoning her nephew in the arms of a rather insane, probably violent, and odd stranger had easily been quelled during her late night arguments with herself. The boy would definitely be happier with his own kind after all. Petunia vehemently thought those freaks should gather up all the freak children born to normal families like hers and keep to themselves so good wholesome people like herself and Vernon could live in peace. Even if they had raised him he could never be a truly normal child, his parents had made him destined to be a failure at that. He probably would have wound up in jail anyway or as a bum. It was much better for everyone that he wasn't here to contaminate her perfect home and perfect family. And now she would never have to be bothered by those weirdos again now that her finally tie was cut.

At least that was what she consoled herself with until she opened her door to find a scrawny pink haired man and slender feminine looking blonde boy waiting for her. Even if they were dressed normal she could sense something off about them and knew they just had to be one of _them_. Petunia shrieked and tried to slam the door shut, but the pink haired weirdo, Petunia realized he must have been an albino who'd dyed his hair, caught it with a frown.

"Now none of that." he said with an undeniably foreign tinged English. "We're here about the kid, your nephew I think, Harry."

Petunia bristled with indignation, it was bad enough they'd harassed her already, now she'd given up the child an they still came. The blonde frowned.

"Gilbert." he chided softly, voice accented, but a little more familiar sounding than the albino's. American maybe? The albino looked down at the blonde with a pout, but stepped back clearly obeying the disapproval in the boy's face. The blonde turned to Petunia's voice face filled with sympathy and kindness that made his already beautiful features warm. Petunia hated him for it because it simultaneously reminded him of her mother and Lily. The woman who'd died with one daughter at her side calling for another and the sister who'd betrayed and abandoned her. Petunia's heart hardened against the boy instantly.

"Well what do you want this time?" Petunia hissed rudely, practically spitting in the kindly blonde's face. He blinked a little startled it seemed, but over his shoulder the albino's face darkened and he looked at her darkly. Petunia flinched. _If looks could kill_.

"We just need to know if you really did give up your nephew of your own free will. If Ivan threatened or pressured you in anyway we will help you get Harry back and make sure you have protection." the young blonde continued appearing to dismiss her earlier action.

She briefly wondered who Ivan was before deciding that he must have been the freak who'd they'd given the boy to. Then her mind fully processed what the boy had said and she couldn't help it she laughed. Honestly want the boy back, why the hell would she willing like take one of those children into her homes. But then she sobered up. Would they force her to take him. She looked at them anxiously, the albino looked even more murderous and even the blonde's eyes have a new sharpness.

"I don't want my sister's freak brat anymore than I want her back. You freaks can keep him." Petunia told them. The blonde actually froze, his face going blank with shock as his eyes started to burn. When his emotions returned his expression was so dark and furious Petunia thought he'd kill her right then and there. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt like she was starring down the wrath of some unimaginably powerful ancient creature. The boy's eyes were practically black-violet they were so dark and filled with ancient knowledge and a deep primal fury. And suddenly it was gone his face completely blank. Petunia was actually shaking from the sight, dimly she realized that the albino had placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"The man he's with has a history of violence. Surely as a mother," the blonde said smoothly looking past her to what she realized with horror was Dudley looking at the visitors curiously. "You don't want a child to be raised in such a place, no matter what problems you and your sister had."

Petunia moved to block Dudley from view and clenched her jaw stubbornly. "I told you no. I'd rather gut myself. Anything the brat gets will no doubt be earned. Especially if he takes after his no good father."

Petunia was fearfully sure that the only thing that kept the blonde from launching himself at her was the albino's restraining hands, though he looked ready to do something himself. Petunia felt an odd rush of power and triumph and being able to say that to these unnatural creatures faces. They may be able to do anything with a wave of a stick, but she wouldn't bow to them or show she was afraid.

"Then sign these papers giving up custody. You'll never be bothered by us again." the albino said coldly, looking at her hatefully. Petunia didn't care though perking up at the mention of being rid of them.

"Really?' she asked hopefully. The blonde looked disgusted and the albino went colder.

"Oh, trust me I won't let the kleine Soldat (_little soldier_) anywhere near you once you've signed this." the albino assured her and quickly brought out the papers. Petunia signed the paper with flourish. The blonde and albino did also and Petunia slammed the door in their faces with a triumphant grin. She picked up Dudley with a new skip on her step. She was free! Finally free! She laughed happily and spun a giggling Dudley around as she danced.

…

When Prussia returned home Russia was in his room doing work while Harry played on the ground with some old toys he'd found in the attic. He thought they belonged to the Czar Nicholas. The albino surprised him by storming in looking like he wanted to kill someone. Russia instantly got to his feet rushing to get to Harry trying to think of a way to get the child to safety before the volatile nation blew up. Russia could easily take him and enjoyed beating him down, but he did not want to risk the child. Prussia though beat him to it and Russia felt his blood boil as the Prussian pulled his son into his arms, vowing he'd kill him in the most painful way possible, to his surprise though Prussia gently threw the child into the air before catching him and making him comfortable. Harry laughed and cooed in imitation of cheering, instantly grabbing Prussia's hair. Prussia though still looked furious, though much calmer with Harry in his arms. Russia though still stood frozen reluctant to grab the Prussian by the throat lest he not get there in time.

"The kleine Soldat is not _ever_ going back to his family got it. I don't care if you get bored at him. Even _you_ are fucking better than that horsey bitch. We are going to raise the kid and raise him right." Prussia vowed and threw some papers down on Russia's desk. "These are the official papers you forgot. Sign this and the kid's ours legal and everything."

Russia raised an eyebrow both surprised by this turn of events and the Prussian's wordings. Thoughts of punishment and Prussia's mystery benefactor fled. "We? Ours?" Russia questioned.

Prussia scowled at him as Harry gave a cheerful tug, not seeming to notice. "Well fuck yeah, you think I'm going to let you mess the kid up. You can still barely change a diaper right."

Russia ignored the cheek for now. There was plenty of time to get Prussia back for it at a later date. Now though he had an amusing turn of events. Prussia had apparently decided to what was the word for it? Oh, yes co-parent with him. Rather Russia agreed or not it seemed.

"I suppose that makes you the Mother, da?" Russia asked innocently. Prussia snorted.

"Fuck no. You're Mother Russia after all. I'm just going to be the supremely awesome Uncle Gilbert." Prussia told him switching Harry to his hip. "Now we've got to talk about the kids bedroom. Are you seriously letting the Baltics paint it? They'll probably pick some sissy color. Harry's room should be a really bright gold or purple at least. Those are nice strong colors. Or maybe even red? None of those girly pastels."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six – The Firsts and Discovery**

"Mr. Russia! Mr. Russia! Come quick its Harry!" Latvia's frantic voice called from downstairs. Russia abandoned the work he had left and ran, taking the stairs three at a time, mind racing with all the horrible things that could have happened to the soon to be two year old child. What he found at the end of his panicked run was three beaming Baltics and a giggling Harry being bounced in Lithuania's arms. For a moment all he could feel was a consuming relief at the sight of his son happy and unharmed. Then though annoyance reared its head and he turned to Latvia furious.

He'd ordered them not to disturb him unless it was an emergency because he had some important work to do. Russia wondered if perhaps he'd gone too long without properly punishing them. They were starting to get a little too rebellious for his taste. Taking too many liberties with his orders. Lithuania's smile faltered a little when he saw the dark look on Russia's face, but Latvia, as oblivious as usual, jumped up and began talking.

"Harry learned a new trick and we thought you'd want to see!" the small nation chirped amazing everyone by grabbing Russia's hand and pulling him to the couch to sit. The action threw him off so badly all he could was stare at the usual trembling nation in amazement. Russia couldn't remember Latvia ever willingly touching him. Lithuania, sensing the change in Russia, took advantage.

"Harry is not a puppy Latvia." He scolded lightly, keeping his smile firmly in place as he turned to Russia. "We thought you'd like to see this though."

Russia watched as the brunette sat the child on the ground a few feet in front of Russia. Harry looked at Russia beaming and allowed Lithuania to help him stand. Harry stayed there a few moments standing shakily on his feet his hands curled around Lithuania's supporting hands.

"Show Mr. Russia what you can do Harry." Lithuania cooed encouragingly. Without needing further encouragement the child took off in a surprisingly developed toddle considering he hadn't walked the entire time with living with them. As Harry rushed towards Russia as fast as the unsteady child legs could take him his bright green eyes starring at Russia intently with warmth and trust a large smile on his face Russia felt his heart twist in a half painful, half wonderful way. As gently as possible Russia scooped Harry up when the boy beamed up at him triumphantly, those small hands of his twisting into the fabric of Russia's pants.

"I am very proud of you little one." Russia told Harry softly, his voice oddly thick. The Baltics were quietly ushered out, by the always astute Lithuania. "Very proud indeed."

Harry's smile grew even brighter, clearly understanding everything Russia had said.

…

"Come on kleine Soldat (_little soldier_) say 'Prussia is awesome'." a determined albino cooed in a cajoling childish tone he always adapted when trying to get what he wanted from Harry. Russia did not quite understand why they found it necessary to speak in high-pitched odd voice to convince a child of something. Russia always told Harry what to do as normally as he would anyone and the clearly intelligent child did it. Not that he asked for much, but Harry always seemed eager to help.

Harry giggled, his colorful party hat falling a little, as he turned his attention to the beaming Ukraine, who was sitting beside Prussia on the floor in front of the couch both trying to get the child to say something.

"It's alright sweetie. You can ignore Prussia. You're going to say 'Auntie Katyusha' first aren't you? Or 'Ukraine' if it's too difficult. Isn't that right sweetheart." Ukraine said in a singsong voice gaining a halfhearted glare from the albino, which quickly disappeared at Russia's warning look. Prussia turned back to Harry, after sticking his tongue defiantly out at the large nation, and continued the competition to be Harry's second favorite person which had been going practically since they'd gotten the child. Since neither had been able to witness Harry's first steps they were both determined that their name would be the first word the child spoke.

It amused Russia to watch this odd competition when he wasn't busy and also reminded him, which was always accompanied with a warm feeling in his chest, that _he_ was Harry's favorite. Now though Russia was not inclined to put up with their pestering the child, even if he did thoroughly enjoy the attention.

"Leave him be, it is his birthday." Russia ordered and catching Harry's attention the little boy abandoned the disappointed adults, quickly getting off the couch and running over to cling to Russia's leg. Russia gave Harry's hair a gentle pet, before walking into the kitchen where the rest of the boy's second birthday party was being held. Harry squealed happily, not releasing Russia's leg and riding it into the kitchen, where he was instantly picked up and sat into the lap of a rather cheerful Lithuania, who was talking to Hungary, who seemed to fascinate Harry to no end, though every time she came to the Main house from the European house Harry spent most of the visit hiding his face and only picking out when she wasn't looking to stare. Now the boy peeked over Lithuania's arm and the moment Hungary gave him an affectionate smile buried his face in Lithuania's shirt. Hungary's smile turned amused and she turned to her other side to talk to Poland knowing Harry would never come out if he thought she was watching. Sure enough, now that she was distracted he peeked back out and relaxed, watching her curiously.

Russia took his seat right as Prussia and Ukraine returned, both looking a little put out about having their fun interrupted. The rest of the countries had already spread out now that the main part of the festivities were over. A few drifted closer to greet Harry, who hid his face every time one of them looked at him too long, except for the red haired Armenia, who Harry smiled at broadly. Russia was almost dozing by the time all the countries had greeted the child and were slowly starting to make their ways to their sleeping quarters. Lithuania was yawning even as he tried to calm Harry, who was growing increasingly fussy. Dimly Russia noted he would need to put the child to bed soon and right when he started to stand to do it something happened that almost made him fall on his face.

"Mother!" Harry demanded stretching towards him face red and determined as he tried to get away from Lithuania. "Mother Russia! Want Mother!"

Russia stared at the child heart not beating as he tried to register the words. His body seemed to figure it out before his mind, because he was filled with a sudden warmth, that actually filled his entire body, for the first time ever he wasn't cold at all. He moved and had Harry in his arms and was laughing happily when his mind caught up with exactly what his son had said.

"Mother Russia." he drawled out slowly, smiling and amused at the child saying his name first even if he had said mother instead of father. It mattered little though, it could be resolved later though. Right now harry had spoken and Russia was euphoric with joy. He kissed the child on the head and rushed away to inform the rest of his family the news, only barely glancing at the others and noting how strangely pale some of them looked.

The Baltics, Poland, and Prussia all exchanged a knowing look, wondering silently if maybe someone else had refereed to Russia as 'Mother Russia' in Harry's presence besides themselves.

"Never again." Prussia dead panned, and they all nodded, except a rather confused Ukraine who had been thinking to herself how adorable the name was.

…

"But I don't want to sleep there! I want to keep sleeping with you Momma." the very astute three and a half year old Harry Braginski cried, looking at his 'Mother Russia' with tear filled green eyes.

Russia swallowed doing his best to be firm. He'd been putting it off since Harry's second birthday when the room was finally finished, but finally he'd decided, not because of a certain Prussian and several others' constantly needling, that if Harry was going to grow up to a well rounded child he needed to 'but the apron strings' as Prussia insisted on saying. And Harry really was too big for to be still sleeping with his parent, but the child was very intelligent (even though he still did not understand why the feminine pronoun and mother weren't supposed to be used for a man) and was just now finally running out of ammunition after an hour long argument.

It had been surprisingly easy for Russia to keep his calm in the face of Harry's defiance. Russia didn't enjoy Harry's pain and had no desire to crush him psychologically and physically like he did with others. In fact the mere suggestion of hurting his precious child would result in an immediate beating and possibly killing the offender.

"Harry you have to." Russia said tiredly each tear feeling like a stab in his heart. Harry's face went hard and he looked crushed. The child seemed to search for the most painful words he could think of and finally he found them.

"I hate you!" Harry yelled looking like Russia had done something horrible to him and running into his new bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Russia stood frozen the words pounding in his head. Numbly he turned and walked down stairs ignoring the others as he passed. Russia silently grabbed a few bottles of vodka and sat down in the kitchen, the darkness clinging to him discouraging any attempts at questions. Lithuania took one look at him an hour later and instantly paled, starting the shaking, which had long been absent. Russia looked at him coldly and the brunette fled to warn the others. Russia didn't follow and starred down at the clear liquid heart breaking. Harry hated him. All the warmth of these past two years deserted him. Russia had somehow ruined everything and now his son, his little one, hated him.

…

"I don't know what happened!" a sobbing, whispering voice protested, catching Russia's attention late that evening as he'd finally risen to head to his study. It sounded as if they were at the entrance in the small hall that led into the kitchen and were failing at whispering. Russia went still pausing to eavesdrop.

"Harry won't open the door and Mr. Russia is in one of his dangerous moods! Something happened, but neither of them is going to say anything!"

It was Lithuania, Russia realized and the dark venom in him made him growl. It was partly Lithuania's fault, Russia had decided, his and the others for trying to force Harry away. And now that interfering little nothing was gossiping about _Russia_ in _Russia's_ own house.

"Dammit, Liet you've got to know something! You are like the freak's favorite. I am totally not going back to the way it was! We've got to like do something!" the annoying high-pitched Pole protested. Russia scowled, growling even louder this time and taking a deep burning swig of his vodka.

"Shut up both of you!" Prussia's voice hissed. "I'm going to fix this. I'm going to talk to Russia. It clearly has something to do with Harry and I'll probably be able to help fix whatever happened between the kleine Soldat and the bastard. If I can't we'll have to accept the change and stay out of sight until it passes. It'll be a shame to loose the 'happy' Russia though, I almost liked the bastard."

Russia wondered at the tone of honesty at the last part. Prussia was starting to like him? That was a change. Silently Russia sat at the table dark purple eyes focused intently waiting to see what exactly the Prussian would do.

…

Harry felt horrible. How could he have said such terrible things to Mother Russia? He was a bad boy like the ones in Auntie Belarus's stories who got eaten by snakes or died in really painful ways. Harry still wasn't exactly sure what dying was, but he knew it meant something like going to sleep and never waking up and going to some place called heaven, which Prussia told him about and sounded really nice. Harry wouldn't be going to heaven though, he realized sniffling into his pillows. Bad boy's who were mean to their mother's didn't go to heaven. Harry still couldn't believe he'd actually told Mother Russia he hated him. It made his ears burn with what Harry guessed was shame. Something else he'd heard about from his caretakers but never experienced.

Harry wondered if Mother Russia hated him for being such a bad boy. Harry wondered if he could ever forgive him. The thought made Harry freeze and gasp with inspiration. Forgiveness! That was it. Mother Russia was so kind, even when Harry had been really bad. Even when Harry had spilled ink all over the reports he was going to give his boss Mother Russia still forgave him, because Harry said he was sorry. All he needed to say was sorry. But telling someone you hate them isn't like spilling ink, part of Harry told him meanly. Harry slumped feeling horrible again, but then perked back up.

What if he said he was really, really sorry? Harry smiled and jumped off the bed. Now that he wasn't crying he realized he was really hungry and that it was dark. It must be really late, because Harry's eyes burned with sleepiness and it was really, really dark. But he couldn't sleep now Harry decided, he would find Mother Russia and apologize, the he could sleep. Harry opened the door and stepped into the hallway and realized amazed that the house was _quiet_.

How weird. Harry had never heard silence before. It made him feel on edge and a little scared. But it wasn't really silent, Harry assured himself. The house creaked and moved like it was breathing, like it was alive too. The thought oddly reassured Harry and he made his way through the house wondering where everyone was. Then he realized that it was night, which meant they were asleep. Harry blushed realizing he'd been silly. Of course they were asleep, he was supposed to be asleep after all. Harry quickly turned to head back upstairs to Mother Russia's bedroom, but then he noticed there was a light on in the kitchen. Curious Harry approached realizing that maybe he _wasn't_ the only one up.

"He told you he _hated_ you?" the incredulous voice of Prussia questioned surprising the eavesdropping child.

"Did I not just say that fool." a furious voice Harry barely recognized as Mother Russia's snapped. Harry blinked in shock. Mother Russia sounded so low, so dark, and almost scary. If Harry didn't know better he'd say Mother Russia was scary. Now though he felt horrible. Mother Russia must be very upset to sound so bad. Harry wanted to run in and throw himself into Mother Russia's lap begging for forgiveness, but something held him back.

"You _believed_ him." Prussia said and then laughed. There was a moment of silence followed by a harsh smacking sound Harry didn't understand and the sound of someone falling onto the ground. Then the air was filled with German words harry recognized as the 'bad' words that harry wasn't supposed to say.

"Watch your tongue or I will cut it out." a cold voice snarled making Harry gasp in horror, but it was covered by Prussia's continued cursing. How could his kind, gentle Mother Russia say something like that even if it wasn't nice of Prussia to laugh at Mother Russia when he was clearly upset?

"Save the threats for later I was just laughing at the fact that you actually believed the kid when he said that. _All_ children say that. They don't mean it."

There was a pause and then Mother Russia spoke voice clearly disbelieving.

"I certainly meant it when I was a child."

"Yeah, but Mongol was a bastard."

Harry wondered who Mongol was and what he had to do with Mother Russia's childhood.

"How do you know—" Mother Russia began voice shaking he sounded so furious.

"China's a chatty drunk, he likes ranting about being forced into Mongol's harem. He says that's when he first really met you, the odd colored child concubine of the harem. The only one other than China who was his favorite."

"What does that have to do with Harry?"

"You've never beat him, you've never raped him, you've never done any wrong by that child, and as much as we all know you are psychotic, you make a surprisingly decent parent. Harry loves you, he only said that to hurt you, because he's feeling insecure right now. I'm only surprised it happened so early, most kids wait until they're at least in their teen years."

"He doesn't hate me?" Mother Russia's voice was so soft Harry almost didn't catch it.

"Of course not." Prussia assured him.

Harry wanted nothing more than to be with Mother Russia right now, he was happy that it didn't sound like he hated him, but at the same time he was too ashamed to go in. The emotions kept building up in his small body and finally the magic that had laid dormant since the night his parents died, gaining more and more pressure with each passing day, burst and Harry suddenly found himself in the air and falling. He barely got out a scream before he was caught by familiar strong, warm hands.

Harry looked up at his savior finding shocked much loved purple eyes. He burst into loud tears. "I'm so sorry! I love you! I'm sorry! Don't hate me!" He blubbered even though he knew, or thought he knew, that Mother Russia still loved him. Harry buried himself in Mother Russia's shirt, feeling his arms snake tightly around him in answer. Harry relaxed, but didn't stop crying breathing in the deep scent of vodka and rubbing his face against the soft warm fabric of Mother Russia's scarf.

"Well our boy's a wizard." Prussia said cheerfully as he absorbed the scene, but his mind was whirling at the implications and the sudden knowledge that he'd need his old wand. Looks like the time with Gellert would come in handy.

Russia glared up at him wondering what this would mean for them all, but not truly caring warm at the knowledge Harry still loved him.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I didn't originally intend to raise the rating, but then I realized some of the later chapters could be considered a little more mature, but not explicit, so I did it to be safe. After next chapter, which will have another Prussia-centric bit in it we should be getting back to Russia's POV and, soon, Little Harry's!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven – Prussia's Expedition<strong>

"Sometimes I think you're using me for the pancakes and transportation." Canada teased, causing Prussia to frown at the words, that though joking, sounded disturbingly like something his self-conscious friend would think. Without thinking Prussia grabbed his friend's hand and pulled him to a halt on the empty British street.

"Don't think that." Prussia ordered, uncharacteristically serious at the thought of Canada believing hi would be using him. The comment was too close to Canada's nature and so untrue for Prussia to let pass even in jest.

Canada went still as Prussia's gaze didn't break from his to show just how serious Prussia was. Surprise and pleasure flickered across the young nation's face, replacing the confusion at Prussia's sudden reaction. Canada's eyes became searching as he examined Prussia's face in the dim light, hand tightening around Prussia's. _Mein Gott (My God) he's beautiful,_ Prussia couldn't help thinking. Canada's intense expression relaxed into something softer, tender, and his fingers laced through Prussia's.

"I know." Canada told him softly, eyes brimming with all the unspoken words the simple sentence conveyed.

Something deeply engrained in Prussia rebelled fearful at the intimacy and implications of the exchange. Another part, the one that was steadily growing the more time he spent with Canada, wanted to lean in and savor the moment. Prussia wasn't sure which would win in the end, but for now the instincts that had controlled his relationships for centuries won out.

"we should get going." Prussia said voice thick opting out of answering the questions in Canada's eyes, but softly squeezing his hand to soften the blow. Canada squeezed back in understanding and a small smile appeared as he calmly changed the subject.

"How was the meeting with Ludwig?" Canada asked truly curious as they resumed walking, clasped hands hanging between them. Prussia groaned at the memory and Canada raised an eyebrow in an odd parody of an inquisitive France.

"I loved seeing West again, but it was creepy as hell because the bastard insisted on 'supervising'." Prussia complained, thinking of his 'reward' for helping Russia and Harry with their first fight. Russia had arranged a meeting with Germany and had allowed the brothers and hour long reunion in the living room while Russia sat in the corner chaperoning the entire time. Being able to speak face-to-face and touch his little brother for the first time in thirty-eight years meant more to Prussia than any words could ever truly express. When he'd first seen his brother, sitting on the couch stiff and cold in a crisp new black suit, Prussia had been shaking and it had taken all he had in him not to cry. But then Germany had looked up and seen him, his dark blue eyes holding a fear-filled uncertainty Prussia hadn't seen since Germany was a child. Prussia had lost it, throwing his arms around his little brother in the most bone crushing hug he could manage. The rest of the hour had been both wonderful and strained. Because of the obvious tension between Russia and Germany and because Russia couldn't stop himself from something unpleasant or creepy every few minutes, lest Germany feel too welcome no this side of the Iron curtain.

"the next visit is in April." Prussia said, noting the street sign and realizing they were getting close to their destination.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." Canada told him with an understanding smile, but then he frowned. "Wait. Does this mean no more free days?"

He was referring to Prussia's reward for their getting Harry's adoption papers. Twice a month Prussia was free to cross the Iron Curtain and go anywhere so long as it wasn't Germany's place or in Germany's presence. Prussia would spend and hour or two with France and Spain, deliver the messages from the others in Russia's home he smuggled out, and, after losing Russia's spies, usually in America (the loud idiot came in handy for catching communists), he'd spend the rest of the time in one of Canada's places, crash for the night and go back in the morning. It was a system Prussia liked and now with the trips he was allowed to make, strictly for Harry's education or information gathering, he'd be able to sneak over without the potential risk of life and limb if Russia changed his schedule and caught him.

"No, Russia's pretty obsessed with figuring out who I kept sneaking off to see. He almost snapped when he thought it was America, but the next time they saw each other your loudmouth broke his nose for thinking he'd willingly spend time with me." Prussia told him swinging their hands as Canada laughed. "Like I'd ever waste my precious time with him. I'm way too awesome for your brother."

Canada rolled his eyes. "The only reason he dislikes you is because every time he pops in and you're there you insist on antagonizing him."

"Even if you didn't have the most annoying brother on earth I'd still grope you, so accept it Birdie. Lost cause." And then Prussia changed the subject an incredulous tone coloring his voice. "Did you know he thinks he's more awesome than me? _Me._ I invented the word, the little brat."

"If he's a brat than so am I. Which makes you a cradle robber." Canada pointed out looking thoughtful, only the mischievous glint in his eyes told Prussia he was teasing.

"For the last time I'm just a pervert! Toni's the pedo and Franny's the rapist." Prussia said, enjoying the playful expression on Canada's face and the easy air between them. Then though he realized they had arrived and it was time to get serious. Canada's smile vanished as soon as he caught Prussia's expression and the laughter was sucked out of the night.

"Let me do the talking, I've known Heinrich for years, but I don't know how he'll react to you." Prussia told him and Canada nodded.

…

Heinrich Fuchs had heard of Gilbert Beilschmidt long before he ever met him. As the illegitimate half-blood son of a well to do Pureblood raised by his Muggle mother, he'd been an easy target when his father, in a rare moment of conscience, had pulled some strings to enroll him in Durmstrang Institute. By the time fifth year rolled around he'd garnered a reputation as a fierce duelist and lost his mother, making him even harder and more ruthless than he'd had to become for his own protection without her softening influence. It was then that word of Gellert Grindelwald's second spread. He was said to be the one who, along with his younger brother, preformed the bloody works of both Muggle and Magical governments. He was said to be the only on in the world mad enough to duel Grindelwald for _fun_, and powerful enough to win. But most importantly, for Heinrich, he was said to be a Muggle raised half-blood. Just like him. He became Heinrich's hero and he tried to be just like him. Strong, heartless, respected, utterly loyal to the Fatherland and _Herr_ Grindelwald, and, above everything else, more than his blood and upbringing marked him to be.

Heinrich had succeeded to a point, he'd never received a position as powerful as Beilschmidt's, but he'd received the respect, and sometimes fear, of equals and superiors alike. His commander had even thought enough of him to recommend him for a special mission that _Herr_ Grindelwald needed men for. Heinrich had jumped at the chance and late December 1939, Heinrich received the orders that changed his life and met Gilbert Beilschmidt for the first time.

"corporal Fuchs?" the handsome raven haired young man questioned. Heinrich nodded, not speaking out loud for fear his voice would quiver and disgrace him. The man didn't move his cold dark blue eyes running over Heinrich's small form considering. Heinrich bit back a scathing remark at the sight of the symbol worn proudly on the man's black Muggle military-style uniform. In dark red thread, almost the exact color of blood, was Grindelwald's mar bright and obvious against the black cloth. It marked the man, who was probably a year or two younger than Heinrich's twenty-five, as a member of the Hallow Corps, the elite group of men directly under _Herr_ Grindelwald and Gilbert Beilschmidt's command. The raven haired man out ranked Heinrich as much as a prince did a pauper. If he wanted to make Heinrich late by looking him over there wasn't a damn thing Heinrich could do or say about it.

"follow me," the man said finally, finishing his inspection with an expression of disdain which clearly told Heinrich this man was very unimpressed with what he saw.

Heinrich ignored it, comforting himself with the fact that though he had to put up with arrogant Purebloods like this man, because that particular expression of haughty superiority could only be from a Pureblood, Heinrich would be the one doing an important service for the Greater Good and _Herr_ Grindelwald. Sweetest of all, he'd be doing it purely because of his Muggle blood. The thought helped him as followed the man through the elegantly decorated halls to a small dark study room with four people within.

Heinrich's heart nearly stopped in pure shock and awe at the sight of the three most important men in Germany, who up until now he'd only heard of or seen at a distance and in photographs. The oldest man, and clearly tallest even when sitting, was a handsome faced striking man, who didn't look it but Heinrich knew to be in his mid-fifties, with thick long, long golden hair, just barely streaked white, his intelligent bemused brown eyes looking at Heinrich over a long ski-slope nose. _Herr_ Grindelwald. Standing stiffly to the side, with an expression of seriousness and almost looking pained was what the Muggles considered the perfect Aryan. His golden hair was smoothed back revealing a strong good-looking face, sideburns, and sapphire blue eyes. He was dressed unusually, in a Muggle military uniform without the hint of Wizarding clothes the Hallow Corps had to theirs. It was Ludwig Beilschmidt the go-between of Hitler's government and _Herr_ Grindelwald's. On the man's arm was a much smaller, slender auburn haired man, a stranger who was so pretty Heinrich at first thought he was a woman. The small man's arms were wrapped tightly around _Herr_ Ludwig's and his head rested on his shoulder making him appear rather sleepy his brilliant golden eyes only half opened looking around the room lazily. The last one in the room was an albino in a Hallow Corps uniform his pointy face was smirking, but his cold red eyes were as serious and deadly as an Avada Kedavra. He looked like the most relaxed of the room's occupants, besides the strange man on _Herr_ Ludwig's arm, leaning casually against the desk _Herr_ Grindelwald sat at as he twirled a long dark wand between his fingers, but the something about the cold self-satisfied smirk on his lips and lazy tension in his body, made Heinrich shiver a little. This man was dangerous, very dangerous which meant he could only be one man. He looked up and caught Heinrich starring, Gilbert Beilschmidt's smirk grew wickeder and amused at the sight of him and Heinrich looked away fighting the urge to blush like a schoolgirl. He'd known the mission was important, but he hadn't realized it was important enough to meet his hero, _Herr_ Ludwig, _**and**_ _Herr_ Grindelwald.

"You're late Corporal Fuchs." _Herr _Grindelwald noted calmly, but the soft reprimand in his eyes made Heinrich feel a very sane urge to flee. _Herr _Gilbert chuckled and straightened, casting an amused look at the man who'd escorted Heinrich in.

"That'll be Rolf's fault no doubt. My men are very choosey about who's worthy of my awesomeness and Rolf probably had to give him a once over before letting him in our presence." _Herr_ Gilbert explained. Giving the man a wiry smile, but his red eyes were bright with displeasure The raven haired man, Rolf, didn't say anything, but looked so pale, if not repentant, at being chastised that even Heinrich felt for him. Heinrich certainly wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes. Heinrich had heard _Herr_ Gilbert was a hard taskmaster.

"I trust you can handle your men." _Herr_ Grindelwald said dismissing the lateness and turning back to stare at Heinrich intently. "Tell me Corporal Fuchs is it true that you are loyal to the cause of the Greater Good and have experience with Muggles?"

Heinrich nodded and then stopped realizing he should speak. He was both terrified and ecstatic at this chance, causing his voice to shake. "J-Ja, _Herr_ Grindelwald. My mother was a Muggle."

_Herr_ Grindelwald nodded looking down at the papers on the desk in front of him. "That's good as you know you were brought here because you're experience with Muggles." He looked up and Heinrich nodded in confirmation. "You see Corporal Fuchs, the Cause needs men, men like you, to do very unique and vital missions abroad. Is it true you can speaking English passingly well?"

"Ja." Heinrich spoke trying to ignore the intense stare _Herr_ Gilbert was giving him. It was bad enough being stared down by their glorious, revolutionary leader without being examined so critically by his personal hero.

"We, no, the Cause needs you to preform a very special, very secret and very dangerous mission. It will take two months of intense, special training and the actual mission itself could last anywhere from a year or until the war ends." _Herr _Grindelwald said solemnly a spark of contagious light and enthusiasm entering his eyes. "Tell me Corporal Fuchs would you do anything to serve your country, to serve the Cause?"

"Anything." Heinrich vowed, breathless and trembling with emotion.

_Herr_ Grindelwald leaned foreword and Heinrich listened breath held in anticipation. "You must become a spy for the Greater Good serving directly under Commander Beilschmidt and as Captain Schmidt's partner."

Heinrich had agreed without a thought and almost forty-five years later waiting in a cold abandoned building in the small Muggle town not too far away from London he lived in he still wasn't quite sure rather he regretted it or not.

"Long time no see Heinrich." a familiar voice said from behind Heinrich making the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the eerie reminder of those years ago. When Heinrich turned to find Gilbert, looking the exact same as the last time he'd seen him except for the casual jeans and T-shirt, he almost wasn't surprised. After all he'd seen this man take an AK to the chest and get up a minute later cursing like a sailor only to rip the person who'd sent the curse apart. What did surprise was the boy following at Gilbert's heels. It was an oddly lovely child no older than nineteen, but with his over sized red hoodie, large magnificent purple eyes, and slender build he looked more like seventeen. Now older than Heinrich's oldest great-grandchild.

"Harold Jones here, Commander." Heinrich corrected all hint of the accent he'd once possessed gone after years in England. Gilbert nodded a hint of his old smirk on his lips, but it was very different from the coldness Heinrich was used to. Softer, friendlier. Heinrich looked at the boy curiously. Gilbert's posture looked relaxed, but it was clear he was shielding the boy slightly. Heinrich could hardly believe it. Other than that ice bastard Schmidt he'd never thought Commander Gilbert would settle down. And if Heinrich's gut was right, which it usually was, this boy had something to do with it.

"I forgot you never gave up your cover." Gilbert sounded almost amused at the thought.

"No." Heinrich confirmed. "I didn't. I've got a good life here Commander. I married Leslie and we had a boy, Gilbert, after you. I've got two grandchildren, both girls. Gwenog and Hestia. Even a great-grandchild. Meagan, she's almost four now. Her father died in the last war. Looks just like him though."

Gilbert smirked again, but there was a hint of warmth at the words, which reminded Heinrich suddenly that Gilbert had an odd fondness for children. It made him feel less like a monster for answering his call. At first he hadn't wanted to. He knew quite well what Gilbert was capable of, but he also knew give a man a few decades to think on his actions and he can change. Not a guarantee, Schmidt was still a bastard after all, but Heinrich certainly regretted his decisions everyday of his life.

"If you're thinking of freeing Grindelwald, forget it. The others or dead, imprisoned, or turned like Schmidt, and I suppose me. I won't help you hurt this country either Commander." Heinrich told him bluntly and was surprised by the almost pleased look he received as his defiance.

"You've become a man little one." Gilbert said almost affectionately in clear, painfully familiar German. His boy looked at Heinrich with new interest at the tone.

"And you've become a pedophile. I see you've finally chosen someone, despite your antagonism for love. It's not like you to bring a lover to a meeting." Heinrich countered, making the blonde blush.

"Birdie isn't my lover." Gilbert protested instantly, but weakly. Heinrich snorted.

"The boy doesn't deny it and you, who are such a good liar, sound feeble. If you aren't you soon will be." Heinrich said and Gilbert looked oddly stricken why the boy's expression went blank. "What do you want Gilbert?"

Gilbert looked like he would have wanted to continue, but decided against it. "I need to know why Voldemort attacked Harry Potter. As odd as this is going to sound. I am trying to protect the boy."

Heinrich stared and barely resisted laughing. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, Gellert Grindelwald's right hand, blood stained right hand at that, wishes to protect the Boy-Who-Lived. You expect me to believe this?"

Gilbert looked Heinrich directly in the eyes and the serious, honesty in his gaze reminded Heinrich of a time decades ago of when Heinrich had trusted Gilbert with the life of the woman he loved and he had pulled through. "Yes."

"Alright." Heinrich replied easily making Gilbert's face fall in shock.

"Alright?"

"Alright." Heinrich repeated amused at managing to shock the man finally. "You protected Leslie Gilbert, and with everything else you are, you are not a liar." then he looked at the boy and smiled. "Well about most things. You should not lie to yourself Gilbert, it isn't healthy. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart. I will send word when I have news." and with that, enjoying the shock on his old superior's face Heinrich Apparated thinking only of kissing his wife good night blessed it hadn't come to a fight he had half expected and had believed he would definitely lose. It seemed he would not need that hastily written Will just yet.

…

"Sorry I thought there would be two beds." Prussia told Canada a few hours later in their hotel room.

"It's alright." Canada told him quietly from the other side of the bed, pulling the blanket more tightly around him.

_The hell it is_, Prussia thought frustrated. He couldn't get Heinrich's words out of his head. Heinrich, that annoying smart mouthed little brat, had always been rather blunt and had a bad habit for telling Prussia how he felt, when Prussia didn't want to know. They hadn't seen each other in decades, but apparently he hadn't lost it in old age. And what he'd said about Canada was definitely troubling. It was bad enough Canada kept looking at him out of the corner of his eye without and old friend telling him he was in love. Prussia definitely wasn't in love. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself as he took in the soft curve of Canada's silhouette in the silent room. Kumajiro had opted for the couch seeming to decide the bed was too crowded for his taste leaving them alone in the same bed.

Prussia cursed the raging emotions in him. Earlier he'd thought he had plenty of time to figure himself out, but now, for some reason, he felt like Canada was waiting for something after Heinrich's words. Something Prussia wasn't sure he could give. His relationships with others had never ended well. Prussia had a track record of hurting those he cared for and being hurt by them. His worst memories consisted of losing Fritz, the death of Germania, and his failure of Holy Rome. Prussia did not want anyone to get close to him. But he'd already messed that up. The moment he'd dragged Canada into that closet he'd been fighting a losing battle and some part of him knew it. And the other part of him, the one that was still fighting, was in a real danger of jeopardizing Prussia's biggest happiness. Because Prussia knew, somewhere deep down, that this moment, this tense dark room filled with the things he should do would decide what would happen in the future. He could either hurt Canada, something that disgusted him to even consider, or stop being a coward and do something.

Prussia let out a shaky breathe and closed the space between them wrapping an arm tightly around Canada's waist and pulling him firmly against Prussia's chest. The drowsing nation startled awake and after tensing for a moment relaxed in confusion.

"Gilbert?" Canada asked softly, hopefully. Prussia swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his hands shaking.

"I'm not good at his." he admitted feeling a little ashamed of how unawesome and shaky he sounded. "I've never told someone I loved them and I've never actually meant, like this anyway. I mean I love West and even Franny and Toni. But I don't want to sleep with them. You know? I mean you don't want to sleep with your brother? Right? Because if you do we're going to have some serious problems."

"You're rambling." Canada said gently causing Prussia to shut his mouth with a snap.

"Sorry." Prussia said tersely feeling like an idiot. Canada wiggled around so they were face-to-face, but still pressed against each other. Prussia held his breath enjoying the heat of Canada all across his front. There was a flash of triumph in Canada's eyes and then suddenly he looked almost shy. But then something different was in his eyes and soon soft hands were caressing Prussia's face. Prussia relaxed under the gentle touch and then shaking ever so slightly Canada touched his soft, plump lips against Prussia's.

The kiss started out chaste enough gently and sweet, with Prussia closing his eyes and savoring the taste. Then though it as anything but chaste and they were grabbing and tearing clothes off not saying another word. A sense of triumph and lust roared through Prussia and soon he forgot he ever hesitated.

On the couch nearby Kumajiro stuck his head under a pillow and prayed it wouldn't take long. Three hours later though, with Kumajiro thoroughly traumatized and hiding in the bathroom, the couple lay entwined and satisfied on their bed. Prussia, who was rubbing lazy circles on Canada's back and snuggling in his curls sighed happily. Canada though pulled his head back so he could look up at Prussia a large grin on his face.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Canada told him warmly. And Prussia looked at the clock and realized it was one in the morning. Prussia burst out laughing, but was silenced with a fierce kiss, which meant Kumajiro would be needing to hide a while longer.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Yes, I know it's supper short, but it's a necessary evil. The next two are going to be insanely long and then the action is really going to speed up. So yes a filler, but one that sets up for what happens next. Trust me.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Wisteria Lane Anyone?<strong>

"Damn I feel good!" Prussia shouted giving a hissing laugh. His body tingled all over and his blood felt like it was buzzing. "I freaking love magic. It's been way too long!"

Romania nodded in agreement, only a slight dilation of his pupils and small smile showing he felt the energizing effect of their work. _And a damn good job too._ Prussia thought smugly looking at the almost opaque force field that now surrounded the estate. Romania and him had been working on it for weeks, adding layer after layer of magic to it, until the the glimmering energy of the field was almost tangible. It was definitely good enough protection, just tapping into it filled Prussia with such a magical high that he'd actually hugged Romania a few minutes ago, the prickly bastard.

"Why'd you give it up?" Romania asked, oddly chatty as the made their way up the slope to Russia's house. The entire estate was already surrounded by a twelve foot solid wall, but now it had the added protection of their spells engrained in the very land. Even should they be wiped off the map the spells would stand. Enough protection that if America's trigger happy instincts kicked in and he dropped the atom bomb right above them they wouldn't be touched. Not that it was easy. Prussia knew that after the high faded, which it unfortunately would he'd be in for a horrible crash. The last time they'd added a layer he'd slept for a week straight, this time he just knew it'd be longer.

Prussia considered dismissing Romania's question with a standard non answer, but then he if he did then the nation probably wouldn't do the favor Prussia really needed done. He'd been trying to figure out a way to ask for hours, but had been to focused on the magic to bother. Besides they'd become a little closer after Russia had decided to throw them together when Romania's magical prowess had been discovered.

"At first I was mad. Grindelwald didn't help us escape, even though he was still out when West and me were caught. I didn't want anything that reminded me of him. And then I got stuck with Russia and lost my wand. Before the kid got here, it really wasn't worth getting back. I was already risking a lot to do other stuff, if I risked it for magic I might lose the stuff I already had. Not tempting fate and all that." Prussia replied, Romania nodded seeming to understand, he didn't ask Prussia what that _stuff_ was exactly.

Romania had seen him sneak out once and hadn't ratted on him. Prussia was grateful for that, but he knew a few of the other countries had known and everyone who did thought he was sneaking off to see West when he could. No one had stopped him. For a moment Canada flashed in Prussia's mind calm and easy curled up beside the fire place reading a book. For a moment Prussia felt a pang of longing, but pushed it away. Today was his free day. He'd be able to see him later.

As they approached the top Prussia decided. It was now or never. He had to ask. Prussia stopped and after two steps Romania paused to look back at him.

"Hey, I need you to do something." Prussia said, knowing his face was uncharacteristically grave. Romania's face sharpened, looking suspicious, gone was the normal grumpy scholar he usually showed. His dark blue eyes flashed behind red glasses.

"Yes." Romania's voice was cool and definitely unfriendly.

Ouch, and here Prussia thought they'd been getting along.

But then it came to him, the perfect way to get Romania to agree. He could always go to Russia of course. It had to do with Harry, so the man would force Romania to agree, but Prussia wanted this settled peacefully, a rather different approach than he was used to, but Prussia decided it was because of Canada's bad influence. Moscow had been set to work researching the laws of the Wizarding World and delivering it to Prussia to discuss with Russia. One thing was becoming clear though the more information the girl brought him. Harry's Muggle adoption would not hold up in a Wizarding court. Prussia was quickly coming to the conclusion that he'd need to preform a Magical adoption. There was only one problem though.

It required the drop of Harry's relatives blood.

"How would you like to seduce a human woman and get out of the USSR for a day?"

Suddenly Romania was all smiles.

...

Petunia Dursley knew quite well she didn't have the best husband in the world, but she also knew she'd vehemently defend him, and her choice of him, against anyone. Vernon was a solid, dependable man, if not very bright. She married him because they shared the same beliefs, he treated her right, and he could afford to give her a life style she'd always wanted. The Evans family had never been lost for love or even for respect in their town, but that was born more from character than wealth. Petunia had always longed for things out of her families reach, but Vernon could give her all that and more. True he could never give her passion or intellectual satisfaction, but Petunia was content. Or as content as any healthy, twenty-five year old woman could be in a sexless marriage.

The man's age wasn't to far off from Petunia's, in fact he may have been a year or two younger, but he was good looking. And there was something about him, something slightly different a strange glow or look to him that made him all the more desirable. He was a slender build, but not feminine, with curly brown, freckles, and the darkest blue eyes she'd ever seen behind red glasses. He was dressed in a slightly mussed, a little over sized, milk man's uniform. Petunia silently mulled over the right word for him and finally settled on it. Cute. The man, boyish though his looks were, was adorable, but not in the girly way some slender men had.

It was late, almost midnight and the lights of all the neighbors were out. Petunia by all rights should be asleep waiting for Vernon to return home with Dudley from the impromptu visit to Marge, which Petunia had barely escaped from by feigning a migraine. Petunia should, as any good woman, wife, or mother would, close the door and settle down to sleep. But Petunia was alone, free of any witnesses, both the immediate neighbors were on vacation and the nosy old woman across the street was in the hospital with a broken leg, and the man was giving her a look she recognized. One she knew quite well she was wearing.

"Ma'am I have a package for you."

"Yes, you do indeed."

…

Romania was having fun, a surprising amount of it, considering how he'd expected this evening to go. Petunia Dursley certainly wasn't a beauty, but her body was young, curved, and definitely willing. Besides Romania hadn't had sex in a long time. He almost felt guilty about pouring a Sleeping Potion down the woman's throat while she slept so she wouldn't wake while he took the vial of blood Prussia had requested.

Cleaning and healing the spot deftly with a drop of another potion Romania gave the naked house wife another look over. He sighed a little disappointed. He wanted nothing more than to linger a little longer, perhaps seducing some more lonely stay at home mothers while he was at it. Petunia was a little younger than he usually went for but she'd reminded him of old times and made he want to experience that some more before he returned, but alas no. Romania sighed again gave his lover a parting kiss on the forehead and left the bedroom.

"Point me." he ordered silently and his wand begin rapidly spinning before settling on the ceiling. An attic he decided and after a little searching found the door. Using the spell again he found his prize. And old school trunk dusty and covered in a sheet in the back of the closet. It was locked, but he made little work of that and opened it.

He was met with familiar startling emerald eyes on a pretty heart shaped face, framed by dark red hair. Curiously Romania noted there was a boy beside the girl, no older than twelve. He was a thin, lanky boy who had long black hair that fell framing his face, a hooked nose, and dark black eyes that were starring at the girl instead of the camera. The children were under a tree and the girl was smiling happily. The boy watched her with his on smile, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes of love, and almost goddess-worship. Romania looked on the back, and in large hurried writing it said. _Lily and Severus, Summer After Hogwarts._

Romania smiled realizing he'd hit the jack pot. He looked back at the picture, focusing on the boy. Was this Russia's son's father? Romania considered the child a few moments longer before shrugging and stuffing it back inside and closing the lid. It didn't matter. He hated children, always would, and even if he didn't hate Harry as much as normal children he wanted nothing to do with raising the boy, besides what he was obligated to by being a member of Russia's household. Prussia and the others could deal with who or what the other child was to their special little prince. Romania had had his fun and now it was time to get home. He shrunk the trunk with yet another potion and put in his pocket.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Shorter than I wanted, but I decided to have the Ministry and wand part in the same chapter. Oh, and the Molly part is needed. This story was decided and Romania planned before Romania was actually official, if anyone's wandering why he's different.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine - A Drop of Blood<strong>

"Are you sure this will work?" Russia said looking at the swirling potion suspiciously. Prussia rolled his eyes.

"Have some faith." Prussia told him smirking. "Besides Romania and I triple checked it. It'll work as soon as we put our blood in."

Russia didn't look convinced and eyed it still wary, but Romania didn't have the same issues after watching the potion shimmer the past month since his trip to England. Romania grabbed the knife Prussia had laid and with a practiced ease slight the tip of his left index finger and allowed the blood to fall in, causing the potion to turn a dark deep burgundy. He careful spoke the ritual words clearly wanting to get this over with.

"I, Dragomir Mondragon, _**România **_(Romania), Son of Crina, Dacia, who has now fallen, First Vampyre and now Witness to the blood bonding of the child Harry James Potter to his new bloodline." When he spoke Prussia stared. Vampire? What the hell? But then he looked at him and Prussia jumped into gear.

"I, Gilbert Beilschmidt, _**Königreich **__**Preußen**_ (Kingdom of Prussia), Grandson of Dedrich, Germania, who has now fallen, and now witness to the blood bonding of the child Harry James Potter to his new bloodline." Prussia said and slit his own finger as Romania passed him the blade. As soon as it cut through Romania's eyes dilated to slits and to Prussia's shock and horror fangs popped out.

"_What the fuck?_" Prussia demanded, Russia nearby stiffened and gaped at Romania too. The Romanian didn't look troubled, but he did give Prussia's hand a longing look.

"I'm a vampire, the first actually. And we should probably get this over with, because the longer I'm in here with split blood the more likely I am to eat one of you." he said a matter of factly and bent foreword to lick the blood off his own already spilled fingers. Noting they weren't moving he spoke again. "I'm serious Prussia's blood is really turning me on and I haven't had a good meal since England."

"You fed on Petunia Dursley?" Prussia blurted out suddenly horrified, not by the blood drinking, but from the fact that anyone would willingly eat her. It was bad enough he slept with her. But that was just gross. Romania smiled.

"Of course, but I used compulsion to make sure she didn't remember it. If I couldn't do that everyone would know what I am, as it stands only you two, my sister, and that Beast currently now. Well and all my children of course, but vampyres certainly aren't going to be spreading around the sire of their race's identity." Romania said looking so calm despite the fact two inch canines were sticking out.

Prussia was freaked. Definitely freaked. But they really did need to finish this. They could talk about Romania's undeadness afterward. Then suddenly Prussia was distracted by wondering rather or not Romania would burn up in sunlight, he couldn't actually ever seeing the country in direct light. That should have been a clue, well that and the fact he had Transylvania and therefore Vlad Dracula in him.

"Well at least Lizzie calling you a soulless creature of the night makes sense now." Was all Prussia said before passing the knife to Russia who was watching Romania with both a wary and suddenly calculating look.

"I, Ivan Braginski, _**Российская Советская Федеративная Социалистическая Республика **_(Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic), Son of Aloyna, Kievan Rus, now fallen, hereby accept the child Harry James Potter into my bloodline as my blooded and only son by mixing my blood with that of his and his families." Russia said and cut himself.

Then his blood hit the potion.

Prussia was thrown across the room. For a moment he was stunned ears ringing, but then a wave of pure Wild Magic hit him and he gasped. There was blood, warmth, life, death and love. Prussia closed his eyes allowing the power to wash over him along with the memories it pulled up.

_Canada was in his arms warm and smiling. Prussia loved him. _

_Holy Rome slept in his lap quiet for once muttering something about Italy. Prussia mussed his hair affectionately. _

_Germany stood in front of the memory trying his best to work his tie into place, but too harried by getting to a meeting on time to accomplish it. Prussia smirked and stepped foreword to help. _

_Prussia knew he was safe in those big arms and he swore he'd be as big him someday. Germania gave his grandson a rare, proud smile. _

_He only saw her once, only felt her arms holding him once, as she cried her human body exhausted from giving birth to a nation. Nearby his half-nation father watched smiling widely, and then in walked in Germania, his grandfather, who carefully took him from his mother. "I love you!" his mother called. "I'll always love you my little soldier!"_

"Mein Gott (_My God_)." Prussia breathed, shakily pushing himself up. Across the room he saw an expression of shock and awe on Romania's face as he gingerly pulled himself to his feet. The vampire fangs were out and he was starring at the potion with more interest than Prussia had ever seen him show anything, even a new book.

"Wild Magic." There was reverence bordering on religious in the vampire's voice. "It all makes since. Love has touched the boy, but who preformed it? It must have required a blood sacrifice, his mother no doubt. Ah, it must have been her. She couldn't have just been a dabbler either she had to have become a High Priestess. And so young too."

Romania was off rambling to himself, a smile growing wider and wider as he did, and his eyes growing more and more intense. Prussia didn't understand all of what the Romanian said, he'd been out of touch for a long time and hadn't dabbled far into Wild Magic, but he understood enough. Love forced into the physical world through a blood sacrifice of equivalent payment. A human life.

"Mein Gott (_My God_)." Prussia repeated and saw Russia was finally catching his bearings and looking furious. "Blood wards. The ultimate protection." Prussia quickly tried to figure how they activated. "We adopted him, making Russia his blood. We activated the wards. No one can touch Harry now."

"Wrong." Romania corrected making Prussia realize he'd spoken aloud, but then continued with a wild half crazed look gleaming in his now red tinged eyes. "A normal blood ward would be ultimate protection, with my vampire blood and the fact the three of us are countries mixed in, we didn't only give him defense, but offense. The child's a Mage now. There hasn't been one since Merlin."

Russia paused what was clearly about to be a very violent rampage and smiled. "It seems we'll need to start training the little one early won't we."

…

It was a warm day in Diagon Alley, not unusual for July. Too warm, Molly Weasley decided trying her best to fight off the headache that was coming. Not even passed Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor and the twins had already set of a dung bomb and got themselves banned from yet another store. Molly was starting to wonder if she'd even be able to get their supplies when they started Hogwarts. By then they might have her banned from every store. At least they hadn't ruined Ollivander's yet, but Molly wasn't sure how long that would last. The six year old red heads were looking extra jumpy.

Molly pushed the door to Ollivander's open with her one free hand, Ginny being held in the other. She had the wariness of a soldier stepping into a war zone. Beside her Charlie looked ready to burst out of his skin with excitement. Molly didn't blame him. They'd been lucky that Arthur had gotten a raise, which allowed them to pay her son a new wand. Molly knew Bill wished he could have had one when he went, but Cousin Hadrian's wand worked for him startlingly well. She was rather proud of how good natured and supportive of his brother Bill was being.

The bell on the door rang through the silent shop announcing their entrance. The shop hadn't changed since Molly had gotten her own wand. Dusty, old, and with a vaguely creepy feeling to it. Her children all looked around curiously, clearly mesmerized by the shop they'd heard about from Molly and, Molly realized with a pang, no doubt wondering if they'd one day be able to get a wand from it. Percy especially looked around with interest. The eight year old peered at the stacks of wand boxes with blatant wonder that Molly rarely saw on her serious son's face. Molly felt a wave of fondness well in her. Percy had been acting more and more like a little adult recently and she missed her little boy and his childishness.

"Molly Weasley, it's been twenty-three years since I last saw you in this shop." a soft voice said causing Percy to scream and jump away from the stack that Mr. Ollivander suddenly appeared from behind. The others were startled, but none so much as Percy. Behind her the wins laughed, causing their brother to blush a red that rivaled his hair.

"I suppose it has." Molly said a little nervously as she gave the twins a sharp look that silenced them. Then she looked back at the small old man. She'd always felt he was just like the shop he owned; old, dusty, and creepy.

"My son is here for his wand." Molly said as an awkward silence stretched out. Mr. Ollivander looked at her thoughtful gaze darting to Bill and then Charlie.

"Not the oldest." he commented and singled out Charlie. "Please, stick out you dominant hand."

Charlie, looking wide eyed nodded, stepping forward and offering his right hand. Mr. Ollivander calmly began measuring charlie all over, quietly explaining the basics of wands and how each one was unique. The man turned suddenly, leaving the measuring tape to measure charlie on its own and flitted around the room in search of a box. When the man found it he quickly grabbed the tap measure, which was now measuring the width of Charlie's left nostril, and stuck it in his hand.

"Cherry, thirteen inches, the hair of a particularly fine unicorn." Mr. Ollivander explained handing the wand to the excited eleven year old with a flourish.

Charlie gave it and eager swish and made the vase of tulips in the window, the only sign of life in the shop, explode. Quickly casting a shielding charm around her and her children, Molly realized this may just take awhile. As the sheepish boy gently placed the wand back in the box Molly took one of the spindly chairs, preparing herself for what could quite possibly be a long wait.

Three more explosions, two incidents of creating miniature whirlwinds, one time throwing Mr. Ollivander across the room and demolishing a large stack of wands, one turning Fred and George's hair pink and purple respectively, four time of lighting Percy on fire, and one turning Bill into a hare later Molly was starting to wonder if getting Charlie a wand was actually worth it. Beside her a slightly singed Percy ducked down gripping a glass of water tightly a wild look in his normally calm eyes. Ginny and Ron, who'd been giggling at the display of magic watched eagerly. The twins argued over which one of them had the better hair color. Bill, meanwhile nibbled on a carrot looking around the room nervously, still twitchy from his brief time as and animal.

Molly braced herself as a now obviously excited Mr. Ollivander handed Charlie a new wand. Before Charlie, looking both ashamed and determined, could do anything the bell rang again and the strangest couple Molly had ever seen walked in.

The first thing she realized after she got passed the initial shock of their coloring was they were both very attractive and then she noted the man had a little girl on his shoulders. The woman was sharp and lovely, very slender with long silvery white hair and bright pinkish-red eyes. She had an arrogant confidence and smirk that instantly put Molly in mind of Narcissa Malfoy. She was dressed as well as Narcissa too, in a dramatic black dress, heeled black boots with silver fastening, and sleeveless jacket that was the very modern and slightly Muggle influenced clothing that was becoming popular.

The man was just as handsome as the woman, with dark purple eyes and short, soft looking beige colored hair, his handsome face glowing as he smiled up at the little girl, no doubt his daughter. He was huge, one of the tallest man Molly had ever seen. The only one bigger was Hagrid, but Molly had the oddest sense that the large man could take the half giant in a fight. He was also dressed in black, with a military influenced jacket with silver lining, black pants, black gloves, and, oddly, a pinkish scarf. Molly wondered how they weren't burning up in such clothing.

The little girl was a different matter entirely, very cute with big almond shaped violet eyes like her father and long messy silvery white hair, sticking out everywhere in an adorable fashion hat made Molly suppress an "ah". Unlike her parents, she was dressed for the weather in a white sundress, with green floral print, and small tan flip flops with little green flowers. The little girl spotted Molly first and smiled shyly, before burying her face in her father's hair. This caught her parents attention.

Before anyone could speak there was a loud _BANG_ and a shard of the broken vase went for the man's face. Charlie shrieked as Molly jumped to her feet ready to cast a shield. Before she had the chance to do anything more than remember the name of the spell though the man grabbed the shard in air and crushed it.

There was a stunned silence.

Then the shock passed.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! Oh, Merlin I'm a useless wizard! I'm sorry! Really, really sorry! You didn't cut your hand did you?" A guilty, horrified Charlie looked ready to burst into tears. The man turned to look at the boy calmly and Molly tensed.

"Нет (_No_), I am fine boy." the man said with a smile that should have been reassuring, but made Molly shiver. The stranger had a heavy accent Molly didn't recognize, but decided sounded Eastern European.

"Mr. Braginski, correct?" Mr. Ollivander asked catching everyone's attention. The man nodded and Mr. Ollivander's eyes suddenly showed an interest Molly had never seen before. "You may wait in my office while I finish with Mrs. Weasley and her children here. It's behind the counter and at the end of the hall on the left."

The man nodded and without another word began walking. The woman though gaze Molly a strange examining look and then did something that surprised her. She smiled, but unlike the one she wore when she'd walked in it was almost nice, triumphant even.

"You're Arthur Weasley's wife aren't you?" the woman asked making Molly jump.

"Yes. How do you know my husband?" Molly demanded, startled and wary. The woman's pinkish-red eyes glimmered, turning dark red and her smile turned into a smirk.

"I don't." And without another word she followed the man leaving Molly gaping.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: I feel oddly disappointed in how short this looks uploaded, but yet again it turned out too long to be put with the next chapter, which should be quite long. Hopefully. At least it was a quick update. And yes it was Prussia.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten – A Prophecy<strong>

"I understand you're having a problem finding a wand for your daughter Lara, correct?" Ollivander questioned, his odd moon-like eyes watching Russia. Russia nodded trying to ignore the eerie feeling that this man knew more than he should. Ollivander kept his gaze on Russia a few moments longer before turning to Prussia, who was holding a bright eyed disguised Harry.

"I'll need to take the girl's measurements. Mrs. Braginski, if you'd help keep the child still." Ollivander said pulling out a measuring tape. Prussia's eyes flashed dangerously at the title, but with an obvious effort he complied not breaking disguise.

Russia hid a smile, the albino had been in a bad mood ever since he'd realized that following up on his spy's missive would require cross dressing. He'd tried his best to get out of it, but the spy had already made their covers that of a young couple and their daughter. Russia certainly wasn't going to let Harry go to a foreign country unsupervised nor would he be dressing as a woman. As Prussia's spy trusted no one but the albino he'd really had no choice in the matter. He had given Russia quite a headache the entire time though. It was a definite pleasure to watch Prussia being bothered.

Ollivander measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and then around his head. Prussia had to keep making Harry stop giggling, lest he throw off the measures. The child was ticklish. As he measured, Ollivander spoke, "Every Ollivander wand is unique. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, Dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. I will try to find your daughter a wand, but it may be too early for her to bond with one."

then something made the man stop his measurements suddenly. Russia tensed and saw that Prussia had a similar reaction hands tightening protectively on Harry's shoulders. Ollivander looked over the child thoughtfully, before giving both Prussia and Russia slow, piercing examinations. The tension in the room was palpable as Ollivander considered something slowly and carefully. Russia quickly began categorizing the swiftest ways to eliminate the old man id he proved to be a threat. Finally though Ollivander took a step away from Harry, straightening from the crouched position he'd been in while he measured the child.

"May I see your wands, Mr. and Mrs. Braginski? As her parents your wands may give me a clue as to what temperament would suit _Lara_ best." Russia narrowed his eyes wondering rather it was best to leave now. The request itself seemed innocent enough, but Russia didn't trust the knowing glow in those silvery eyes nor the soft, barely noticeable emphasis on Harry's alias. Prussia gave a small shake of his head and, keeping one hand firmly ready to throw Harry behind him at the slightest threat, reached for his wand. Russia copied the action, reaching for the wand he'd acquired recently.

Russia didn't like complying, but knew this was their best chance at getting Harry a wand. Ever since the discovery during his adoption they'd been trying to find a wand. Prussia and Romania agreed that it was too early to start practicing any concrete wand magic, but both wanted him bonded with a wand as soon as possible. They'd tried every wand maker in the Soviet Union. None had showed the slightest spark. They'd agreed Harry would probably need a British wand and when the message had come telling them about a secret hidden in the Ministry of Magic, one that only Harry could lift, Russia had decided to kill two birds with one stone.

Ollivander took the offered wands, looking amused by the reactions his question had caused. His looking over of Russia's wand was so quick, it could almost be dismissive. Russia felt offended despite his lack of true interest in magic. Ollivander's examination of Prussia's was the opposite. Slow and lingering, those moon eyes glowing with interest as he turned it this way and that, peering at it carefully.

"Interesting." Ollivander commented and looked up at them quirking a little smile. "Mr. Braginski's wand is a Gregorovitch creation. Adequate, but not overly fond of its wielder." He handed the wand to Russia, before turning to pass Prussia his wand and look at him with almost as much interest as he'd shown the wand. "I recognize the maker of your wand also Mrs. Braginski, though I've only heard of three in creation. This wand in particular is interesting considering who it was made for. It's perfect for you, which makes me even more curious about how a young woman like you has acquired Grindelwald's Second's wand, but that is a story for another time. _Lara_ is the one I need to be focused on now."

Prussia went grey at those words, but Ollivander seemed not to notice giving Harry a searching look.

Russia's mind was working over time as he watched Ollivander rummage around his desk until he found whatever he was looking for. Yet again there had been the emphasis on Lara. Ollivander knew something, what he knew wasn't clear, but it was obvious the old man knew something wasn't right. Russia was on his feet an instant before his thoughts came full circle. Ollivander turned back to him a thin long box in his hand, seeing Russia he smiled.

"Before you do anything rash, allow the child to try this wand. Usually I'd want to try others, but my gut is telling me you aren't in a very patient mood." Ollivander said lightly, completely relaxed despite being starred down by Russia. Before the countries could react, and with an agility his frail old body didn't suggest, Ollivander had the box open and pushed the wand into Harry's hands.

Harry who'd stopped following the conversation when he'd realized it was going to stay in English had been swirling the skirt of the dress Poland had lent them for the disguise. Russia hadn't allowed himself to consider that too long or the fact that Harry had been so calm about being dressed up as a girl. The boy had almost seemed used to it and hadn't even blinked when Hungary had taken pictures. The sudden movement caught the boy's attention though and his hand grabbed the wand instinctively. The second he did Harry's mouth dropped and his potion changed eyes widened.

Russia had Ollivander by the collar and up in the air before anyone could blink. But then, startlingly, Harry smiled and before Russia could tell him to drop the wand or the watching Prussian to take it away, lifted it above his head and brought it down with a swish. The result was as amazing as it was brilliant. A stream of red, gold, and violet shoot out forming a brief image of an unusually colored sunflower, before breaking apart into tri-colored butterflies that flew around the boy. Harry's grin widened and the boy laughed happily twirling around watching his creations even as they faded. Judging from Prussia's bugging red eyes the reaction was most definitely not average.

Almost forgotten in the face of Harry's prowess Ollivander stirred making Russia turn back to him even as he tightened his grasp. The man still wasn't nervous, in fact he looked overjoyed and gave Harry a downright sweet smile. Russia wanted to hurt him.

"Marvelous," Ollivander said his voice a little rough, and turned back to give Russia a still annoyingly pleasant look. "So young Harry's a Mage? It's not entirely surprising his mother had the makings of a High Priestess and his father was quite brilliant in his own way."

Russia narrowed his eyes and growled. "What do you know?"

For a split second fear fluttered across the old man's face, but just as quickly it was gone covered by that damnable calm. "Nothing as condemning as you seem to suspect, but I remember everyone who's come into this shop and it was simple to spot Lily Evans's son, even if he was dressed as a little girl. I'll tell you what I know if ewe can sit and speak like reasonable people though."

Russia considered declining he'd get the information out of the man one way or another, but a quick look at Harry made him decided he wasn't quite ready to show his son his worst face, even if the old man was annoying. Russia sat him down roughly, causing him to stumble a little. Ollivander caught himself though and sat in his desk chair. Prussia, who was being oddly quiet, allowing Russia to head this situation, quickly took an empty seat, pulling the curious Harry into his skirt covered lap. Russia remained standing and was pleased to note a bit of unease appear in Ollivander's eyes. It seemed he hadn't quite lost his intimidating factor yet.

"As I was saying, his mother had a similar reaction, though nowhere near as powerful. Her wand was a good match for a High Priestess which she obviously became if the reaction was any indication. Ten and a quarter inches, long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. His father, on the other hand, was favored by a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Harry's is a more unusual combination, rather well suited I'd say considering the circumstances. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Ollivander said and Russia glared not particularly caring about the specifics of wands his son's birth parents had possessed. Ollivander noted this and gave a little sigh of disappointment as if he thought very little of Russia lack of interest, but before Russia could get truly offended he continued.

"I truly don't know how or why you have Harry, but it is obvious you love the boy so I'm willing to turn a blind eye. But there are two things I need to tell you first. The man who's phoenix gave the feather for Harry's mind made me swear to tell him who and when the wand was matched." Ollivander explained and suddenly a sly look entered those eyes. Russia tensed. "But I would be willing to delay telling Albus about this until Harry's of age, if you'll allow me to find you a proper wand that is. It's painfully obvious that the Gregorovitch wand doesn't suit you and I do like a challenging customer."

"Albus Dumbledore?" Prussia demanded his expression wary, red eyes oddly haunted. Ollivander nodded, not taking his eyes off Russia.

"You have to." Prussia said in rapid German, catching Harry's attention. The boy might not understand the language's, but he could tell the difference. "If Dumbledore finds out there is now telling what could happen."

Russia turned his glare to the albino who met his gaze head on not backing down. Russia scowled. He didn't like being backed into a corner or the fact that this Albus Dumbledore, whomever he was, could pose a threat to his family.

"Who is he?" Russia demanded replying in German. Prussia hesitated, eyes flashing as if he was remembering something painful he'd rather forget, but then his expression cleared and hardened.

"His a wizard. Very powerful. Very old. And very influential." Prussia paused, but continued, looking as if he was forcing it out. "I've met him and it wasn't on any good circumstances. We can talk about him later, but all you really need to know right now is that it's a very bad idea for him to know about Harry."

Russia considered a moment, stiff and uncomfortable under three very intense gazes (curious, pleading, and perplexed), but conceded. It wasn't a good idea to bring any attention to them. Dumbledore aside England knowing could be just as disastrous. It was quite obvious that Harry had played a very key part, and may still yet, play a key part in the whole Voldemort fiasco. Russia turned to consent.

Ollivander already had a wand box ready. As the man got the wand out to hand to Russia he spoke. "Oh, and the second thing you should know is that I also sold the wand that gave young Harry that scar. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. The core just so happens to be the feather of the same phoenix that gave the feather for Harry's wand. The only other feather it ever gave to be exact."

Ollivander said it casually as focused very intently on unfolding the velvet that surrounded the wand, but judging from Prussia's expressions it was anything but simple information.

"THEY'RE BROTHERS!" the Prussian shouted jumping to his feet and pushing Harry into Russia's arms.

Russia was really starting to hate magic.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: I'm sorry for the rather short chapter after forever. I had a big chapter planned, but it refused to work so I made this and added a scene that I didn't intend to lead into the next chapter which will be *dum* *dum* in England's POV.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven – A Dark Birthday<strong>

"_The one with the powers to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._

_Born to those have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..._

_And the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._

_And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

The words still haunted them even after they'd left England. Heinrich had managed to sneak them in on the lie that they were interested in seeing how their Ministry worked. They'd been placed with Arthur Weasley a well liked and well known member of a minor Department and had switched with golems halfway through the tour so Heinrich could take them to the Department of Mysteries. After hearing the prophecy they'd placed a fake one in its place and switched back with the golems. The rest of the tour had been achingly slow and Russia had gotten so antsy at the end he'd almost hurt a snide blonde man who'd shown up at the end. Only Harry being in his arms had prevented the man from coming to harm. Russia couldn't wait to get back to his own country and Prussia couldn't blame him.

Countries always felt better back in their home territories.

Harry's party had dawned on a rather dark note and despite their best efforts it was nowhere near as excited as it usually was. Even Poland was quiet and Harry only didn't notice because Moscow and Hungary were distracting him. He was being simultaneously shy and thrilled by the attention.

"Prophecies are tricky." Romania said surprising everyone by willingly approaching Russia's inner circle. Russia further surprised them by gesturing for him to sit. "This prophecy in particular is very ambiguous. It's obvious it only came true because Voldemort chose to attack Harry, scaring him and thus 'marking him as his equal'. But if Harry choices not to challenge Voldemort should the man successfully resurrect himself than he will successfully make the Prophecy null and void. He may not have a choice though. Voldemort has shown that he doesn't have a deep understanding by attacking first instead of waiting to see what Harry would become, he will likely assume that now that Harry's been marked he has no choice but to destroy Harry before he himself is destroyed."

"And his pride." Prussia pointed out, speaking up for the first time since they'd gotten back. "he'll want to show that he can't be defeated by a child. Right now Harry's safe because he's under protection and nobody knows where he is, but when he goes to Hogwarts, if he does chose to attend, he'll be more vulnerable."

Russia scowled expression darker than even when he'd first heard the Prophecy.

Romania nodded. "We'll need to prepare him. It means that until _we_ manage to kill Voldemort we need to make sure Harry won't get himself killed and we need to be prepared to deal with magic ourselves. We all need to get back in touch with our Magical sides."

Russia straightened. "Romania, Prussia you will teach the others and Harry. Harry is not to be left alone _ever_. And everyone is to train and give something to his education."

They all nodded their agreement giving Harry, who was smiling, a worried and concerned look. Nobody wanted anything to happen to the child.

…

When Ann heard about Steven's sentence after years of the court dragging on she knew she had to act. When the Ministry was in an uproar because of the discovered break in to the Department of Mysteries she knew it was time. She gathered the supplies quickly, kissed her daughters good-night and went to break into the most secure Wizarding prison on the planet. It was surprisingly easy. The guards were sympathetic because there had never been any concrete evidence of Steven's Death Eater activities and saw her as simply a grieving widow. They had been so generous they'd even forgotten to take her wand.

They hadn't seen the stunners coming.

"Oh, Steven." Ann gasped fighting back tears as she held her husband for the first time in years. Steven frail arms grasped her as hard as his weak body could and he shook with sobs, kissing her blonde hair over and over.

Behind them the newly freed Rabastan snorted at the display of affection as he helped his brother place the newly transfigured Muggle look alike in their place. Ann lifted her head to glare at them. The Muggle looked at them with huge horrified eyes and Rudolphus gave him a sharp kick to the ribs making him give a silent scream, unable to form words after Ann's careful spell work.

"Mind your manner Rabastan." Steven growled over Ann's head. "My wife didn't have to save the rest of you and you'd best remember it."

The man looked ready to say something, but from a sharp look from his brother he kept silence simply sneering. Steven stiffened, his muscles tensing under Ann's hands. Ann gave a small shake of her head though and he relaxed.

"The girls will be happy to see you." Ann said softly. And Steven's expression became a mixture of longing and sorrow.

"Astoria won't even know what I look like." he whispered to her. Ann kissed him trying to remove all the years of pain and suffering he'd experienced. He returned it eagerly acting as if he was drowning and she was air. When they finally parted he looked calmer and less likely to burst into sobs again. Ann looked past her husband to the scraggly hunched figure in the next cell.

"What about Sirius, were the rumors true?" Ann asked eyes pitying. Steven shook his head eying the man sadly.

"Framed by another wizard he's still a blood traitor." Ann nodded understanding what her husband was saying. He may pity the man for where he'd ended up, but he wasn't about to risk detection by also releasing a Light wizard.

"Don't worry about him he won't be suffering much longer." a female voice said followed by a cackling laugh. Bellatrix had reappeared after she'd gone to retrieve their wands. She tossed her husband and brother-in-law their wands first before giving Steven his her gaunt face triumph and oddly tender as she looked Ann over.

"You've done well girl." the dark beauty said voice like dark honey eyes glimmering with madness. "Now we light the fire and no one will know anything."

Ann nodded forcing herself not to shiver at the evil and cold in the woman's eyes. She brushed the back of her hand along Ann's check in an affectionate gesture that sharply contrasted with her former dismissive and cruel behavior towards Ann.

"I'm sure our Lord will reward you and your children for the great efforts you've made in his service. I intend to." Then Bellatrix straightened a manic smile spreading on her lips. "Now time to start my cousin's funeral pyre and then to kill the brat."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Next chapter will be longer promise, but it will also still be focused onwhat's going in England and with Arthur, so don't expect Harry or russia unless I sneak them in at the end. Also I'll probably be going back to change romania some. I'm behind so I hadn't seen the official Romania, so I've desided to incorporate him into mine. The changes will be artificial, mostly looks, but Romania in the later chapters will be more like canon, or my interpretation of him. Also yeah, I went there with the Dursleys.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve – The Dursley Pyre<strong>

It was going to be a bad day England decided as he drove towards the address he'd been given. This idea was proved when he turned to find Privet Drive crowded people in the street and emergency vehicles everywhere. Swallowing hard England got out and did his best to stay calm as he walked towards Number Four. The Officer who'd been called on seen had told him to come down, knowing England had requested to be kept informed about the family inside, but he hadn't told him exactly what had occurred. England was to the front of the crowd when he caught sight of Number Four.

Or at least what it used to be.

England's control snapped at the implications of the burnt out shell that was Number Four and he was pushing his way through towards the Officer trying to talk down a hysterical woman in a pink gown who was shouting something about singed azaleas. The officer looked relieved for a split second at the excuse England provided, but instantly went serious catching the panicked look England was sure showed on his face. The woman huffed as England was instantly allowed to cross over the tape. England had never been so tempted to harm one of his citizens during the past few centuries, but settled for giving her a glare that sent her scampering away whimpering. He didn't have time for pests.

It was only as he followed the Officer, who introduced himself as Gary Steins that England saw the body bags being pulled away from the scene.

England almost vomited.

"Boy." England croaked out shaking, horrified. "What happened to the little one?"

Officer Steins gave him a sympathetic look as he replied. "Child Services has him right now. The agent in charge isn't allowing anyone near him. There isn't any other family so she'll be taking him."

England didn't bother to wait for the Officer to say anymore he saw the agent he was talking about already. It was a woman England knew. Apparently Gemma had remembered his request to come if there was any trouble with this particular home. Gemma was standing over the hunched over, blanket covered little figure with a protective stance that when combined with her impressive stature, sharp features, and bright red hair gave her a fierce look of a tigress was keeping everyone a good distance away. Seeing England she stepped out of the way so he could approach the trembling figure.

England didn't move, couldn't move as he looked at the small body. Tears pricked his eyes as the tension in his chest released. Harry was alright. Harry was alive. The boy's family was dead though. Somewhere in him England felt a pang as he always did at the deaths of his citizens, his children in a way. But there was also so much relief. He didn't move the blanket instead reaching out towards the boy. His hand stopped hovering over his head unsure. He drew it back and turned to the woman behind him.

"He's scared." Gemma whispered behind England, seeming to understand he couldn't speak at the moment, too limp from relief. "He doesn't look harmed other than a few bumps and bruises, but I think there's more." She hesitated for a moment eyes flickering around the crowded street and stepped closer, so only he would hear. "I think _you_ should take a look Arthur, the fire doesn't seem quite right and I think whatever started the fire has a lot to do with just how traumatized the poor lad is."

England felt a flicker of unease and nodded. Gemma had wonderful instincts honed from years of being surrounded by magic thanks to her Muggleborn twin and younger brother, if she knew something was off than it likely was. Quietly, still turned as if whispering to Gemma, who remained equally still, England, reached out with his magic allowing it to take it all in. He knew instantly Gemma was right. He could feel the remains of the Wards broken and shattered for what felt like years, the dark hatred and pain that lingered after the casting of Unforgivables and the linger tingle of a Fire Charm. But there was something else that shocked England. It came from the boy huddled as he was. He could feel the magic buried deep inside him and he felt the bounds that kept it there, chained deep and painful leaving a void that nothing would have been able to feel. England turned away from Gemma instantly focusing everything on the child.

There were remnants of spells, Crucio and others, but England would take care of that soon. He was focused on a much more startling fact. His magic was bound. It was bound tightly, but sloppily. England could feel tiny bits of it struggling and seeping out in a way that would allow the boy to feel the loss. If magic was bound properly and tightly the loss would not be felt by the individual, on some unconscious level they would know it, but it wouldn't affect them too heavily. The way the child was bound though left him with a whole that he would feel. The child would be longing for something to fill it and not even realize what was missing; he'd just always want and want with this binding. It would be enough to drive someone up the wall.

Examining the child carefully and gently told England one other thing.

This was not Harry Potter.

England took a careful step forward and as gently as he could he pulled the blanket away from the child's face. Big blue eyes looked up at him dully, from the chubby tear streaked face of a young blond boy. Dudley Dursley, part of England supplied. England felt like he'd been gutted, quite suddenly and viciously, but he pushed it aside swallowing hard. His Savior was missing and judging by the Wards maybe even never here, but for now England had someone else to take care of. A small orphan who'd had something cruel and inhuman done to him.

"_Albion!_" A small voice gasped and England could only look down amazed to find a small fairy clinging desperately to little Dudley. She was no more than a child with curly blonde her and bright purple eyes dressed in some very well-tended violet petals. England met the startled young fey's gaze head on and swallowed again. This was certainly unexpected, but he would deal with it later, for now he had to take care of Dudley before any of his questions could be taken care of.

Reaching forward England wrapped both his arms around the little boy's body and pulled him to his chest. Dudley stiffened, but almost immediately relaxed instinctively sensing that England meant safety if not understanding why exactly. England smiled at the reaction and closed his eyes allowing his chin to fall on the little boy's head. He drew strength from every waterway that made up his veins, the land the was his skin, London settled in his core, his heart, the fields that were his hair, the forests in his eyes, and the people than made up his mind and beliefs. England drew the love of every mother and father in him, the comfort of every parent to their child and wrapped it all around Dudley siphoning it into him as England's magic worked to repair the damage done by the spells used on the boy and one delicately unthreading the wrapping around Dudley's magical core.

With each thread that unraveled Dudley shook more, until finally, with an inaudible _snap_ the last one came undone, allowing years of magic that belonged to him to course through the little boy and help England's magic to the repairs, it also served as an amplifier for the emotions England was using. Without even an ounce of hesitation Dudley threw his arms around England and started sobbing his heart out. England petted his hair and whispered soft words he'd used to direct at Canada and America. Between them the young Fairy wiggled out crawling up Dudley and hopping onto England's shoulder so she could reach down to card her small hands through the boy's hair and comfort him similarly. Once Dudley had quieted some England lifted him up, noting quietly that apparently Dudley had tried to fill the void from his magic with food, and approached Gemma who looked startled.

Seeming to shake whatever had surprised her off the woman gestured for him to go. "I've already informed the agency you'd be taking him, once they realized exactly which Arthur Kirkland you were things went smoothly. Dudley Dursley is officially yours for the time being. Now don't look at me like that Arthur, you're terribly easy to predict."

England shook his head at the woman's words but was thankful. That was one less annoyance to take care of. Now to get Dudley home and find out what exactly had happened both now and what he now estimated to be the night after Voldemort's defeat, because it was quite obvious now, to England, that Harry Potter had never arrived into his family's home and heaven help whomever had him if they'd so much as hurt a hair on his head, because England was out for blood.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Albus Dumbledore is incredibly hard to write. I hope you all enjoy this delayed Christmas present! Mother Russia's over a year old now and yet Harry hasn't even arrived at Hogwarts yet. Ah, well! Happy New Year, too!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen <strong>**–**** A Grave Miscalculation**

Albus Dumbledore liked to think himself prepared for anything. With all his careful planning, spying, and back up plans upon back up plans he certainly felt himself justified in this. But sometimes a niggling doubt in the back of his mind would make him uneasy. But he would quickly beat back those doubts and the voice that questioned him. If he listened then there could be chaos, he would have to go back through everything and quite possibly ruin some of their best chances because of prying and unease. The niggling he'd been experiencing recently though would not go away. Perhaps it was partial because he hadn't heard a word from Arabella in the past few weeks. Maybe it was because Harry's birthday was tomorrow and it filed Albus with a strange sort of melancholy as it always did to think that the little boy was one step closer to having to face Tom. Or it could have been the fact that disquieting rumors had been going through the Ministry recently. Nothing concrete or big. Just mentions of Aurors on mission that they weren't permitted to speak of (Albus quickly noted that known of these Aurors had a connection to his Order and therefore no loyalties to him) and of a strange visitor having arguments with the Minister. Some suspected him to be a younger lover; others claimed he might be the illegitimate child of the Lady Minister, or, the most unnerving to Albus, that he was someone else. Someone only spoken of in whispers by the most senior of the Ministry, someone who even Albus tried not to think of too often.

Albus decided it was all of these though and was quick to mentally defend his surprise visit to the Minister, because surely there was some simple reason that the Supreme Mugwump would be visiting her. A reason that had nothing to do with second guessing and paranoia.

Humming to himself Albus noted the pointed absence of the secretary as he stepped out of the fireplace to the Minister's private office that only the Minister and certain Department Heads and higher-ups possessed access to. The next second he heard the shouting and drifted forward to listen, feeling like a child listening at a keyhole. It was a rather apt description he decided as he swept closer to the half open door to Millicent's office.

"For the last time Arthur no! We don't have any information! We don't have _anything_ at all! Until we do you are forbidden to act! Is that understood?" Millicent Bagnold, current Minister of Magic and what Albus had long considered someone without possession of any sort of temper, shouted at the top of her lungs.

_CRASH!_ Albus blinked startled. Whatever it had been sounded rather expensive.

"Like hell! You expect me to sit on my ass and do nothing? Have you gone around the bin Millicent! Damn it! You could at least bring in Dumbledore! The man's sure to have some little spies tucked away who can find something if the Aurors you're using are too incompetent!" a male voice snarled out accompanied by what sounded like fists slamming on a desk. "Or better yet you could let me FUCKING DO SOMETHING!"

"NO!"

_SNAP!_

"You've broken the desk!"

"You act like that's the only bloody fucking thing I broke!" the young man snarled again. "Tell someone! FIND HIM DAMN IT!"

"Calm down Arthur." Millicent cut in after a few moments of silence, voice cold a brooking no room for argument. "You will go home and you will say nothing."

"Like hell I wi—"

"That's an order from the Minister of Magic of _England_." Millicent said and the room went quiet. Albus wondered at the emphasis and tried to place the male's voice. It sounded vaguely familiar. The more he thought about it the more uncomfortable it made him. He _knew_ that voice and it filled him with unease.

"Fine."

Only his long years of life kept Albus from so much as blinking as the door in front of him was violently thrown open by a powerful gust of magic that he felt into his bones.

"Then perhaps I should allow the Supreme Mugwump his time with you." Arthur Kirkland purred, green eyes triumphant and a sly smirk on his lips. Millicent swung to look at Albus looking both furious and almost resigned. she quickly regained her composure and gave Kirkland the coolest look albus had ever seen.

"Go now Arthur, what's done is done and I will not have you doing anything else. Do not think to come to my office again unless I call you." Millicent said coldly, looking fiercer than Minerva when protecting her cubs. albus was a bit impressed, though Kirkland wasn't.

"I will see you soon Millicent and when I do I hope you'll have some news." Kirkland's eyes flickered to Albus and he had the distinct impression he was being dissected. It was an uneasy feeling, one that Albus never appreciated especialy when coming from Kirkland. Someone whom Albus had been wary of since they met back in 1890 not long after his father had been sent to Azkaban.

He hadn't aged a day.

"Albus." Kirkland acknowledged, smiling as if he understood Albus's unease and was trying to erase it, as always albus was even more troubled by the fact that despite himself it worked. He could feel a certain pull towards the man that told him that he was trustworthy and he could relax around him. It was a more powerful version of what had drawn him to Gellert, the instant sense of kinship.

Albus didn't like it.

With a last nod to Millicent, Kirkland left the room and the Floo roared outside of the office moments afterwards. Giving the woman a moment to collect herself Albus turned to the Minister with a smile.

"Is there something wrong Millicent?" Albus questioned with a smile.

Millicent looked almost murderous.

. . .

It hadn't taken the Minister long to come up with a logical excuse to leave him. After making sure to send Minerva a quick message that he may not be returning in time to welcome their newest Defense of the Dark Arts candidate and assigning her to take care of the man Albus followed his first instinct and quickly found himself at Arabella Figg's house. Unsurprisingly he was met with the startled mews of several cats among them a rather exotic looking new Queen who gave him a regal, but dismissive once over. What did surprise him was a tan looking Arabella in loose tan pants, a short sleeved shirt, large floppy hat, and flip-flops, who immediately upon seeing looked to be about to burst into tears.

"Oh thank Merlin you came! Did you get my owl?" the woman said wringing her hands clearly anxious as those cats closest to her meowed in distress and butted their heads against her or twined their bodies around her attempting to calm the woman down.

"I am sorry to say I did not Arabella." Albus told her with a frown. "I just happened to decide to stop in and I must have missed it. What is it that has you so distressed?"

"The boy's gone Dumbledore!" Arabella said, or rather yelled, looking at anything but Albus as she explained. "I left for a quick holiday in in Africa and found the most delightful new breed of cat to breed with my Kneazles. Their part serval. Took a good deal of convincing to get the Muggles who were breeding them to let me have some, their still in the experimental phase and my holiday lasted longer than I thought it would. Jonquil here took to my Henry faster than we thought and we had to delay the trip until she was well enough for travel."

"Arabella," Albus interjected, gently but firmly to make the woman get to the point. He was barely keeping himself calm and he needed to know what happened _now_.

Arabella nodded, looking calmer now, but still upset. "I just got back and the first thing I hear is that their was a fire at Number Four. Everyone but the boy died! And Albus someone took him and by the sound of how smoothly he was passed over it sounds like the man might have been magical, but he's definitely unknown to me."

Albus could feel his plans shatter around him, but more importantly he felt a keen loss. Lily and James's son, two of his favorite pupils, taken by some stranger and his entire family dead. It felt as if all of his long years hit him in one swift blow.

"_Dumbledore_!" Arabella gasped horrified as the world seemed to tilt and Albus stumbled. The small woman stopped him from toppling over and very carefully eased the very, very old man into a seat. Feeling shaky Albus looked at Arabella with sad, twinkle-less blue eyes, he did his best to give the distraught woman a comforting smile.

"I'm sorry my dear, it seems my old age is catching up with me. Please describe the man who took Harry." Albus demanded gently. If anything the woman looked more distressed and when she spoke it was in a quiet, gentle tone one normally used with the feeble minded.

"Dumbledore," Arabela began doing her best to look gentle, but her eyes very worried. "The boy I've been watching is Dudley Dursley, remember? Harry Potter was placed elsewhere."

For the second time in the past five minutes Albus's world changed completely, he did not let it show this time though and simply smiled at Arabella, refusing to show his shock and dismay.

"Of course, how silly of me Arabella. I've just been thinking of Harry because his birthday is tommorrow. Now please continue your story of how the man looked."

Arabella didn't look convinced, but complied and Albus recognized the man in a instant. Arthur Kirkland had Dudley Dursley, which meant the person the Ministry was looking for and had gotten the mysterious green eyed man so upset over was Harry. Albus excused himself after he finally managed to calm Arabella, though the woman still seemed to be under the impression he was going senile and he didn't doubt she'd be sending Minerva a note very soon. Albus would handle that later though, for now he needed to see the remains of Number Four. The street was dark when he arrived so no one was out and about, Albus truly wouldn't have cared if they had been though. His mind was too filled with dread and horror. He sensed traces of magic remaining in the burnt out property and one quick spell told him who exactly had cast the lesser fiendfyre that had killed the Dursleys and burned their home.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

The same woman was supposed to have died along side many other high security prisoners, including Sirius, in February during an accidental fire caused by an over eager new guards wrongly cast warming charm.

If Arabella's news made him feel old, this made Albus feel ancient. He barely managed the energy to get back to Hogwarts where Minerva was waiting for him a piece of paper in hand in his office. Seeing the wariness on his face the woman instantly went to concerned and with a heavy heart Albus sat, wondering how he could even begin to explain his grave mistake.


End file.
